


The Replacement Killers

by imgoodbackup



Series: Replacement [1]
Category: General Hospital
Genre: Action, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-22
Updated: 2010-08-22
Packaged: 2019-04-29 18:49:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 50,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14478948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imgoodbackup/pseuds/imgoodbackup
Summary: After he betrays a ruthless crime boss who hired him to avenge his son's death, professional killer Jason Morgan goes on the run. Enlisting the aid of beautiful document forger, Sam McCall, Morgan attempts to return to his family before they are victimized by his betrayal. But an army of "replacement killers" is hot on his trail, and now both he and Sam are targets of their impressive firepower. With both sides fully armed and determined to fight to the death, an ultra-violent shoot-out breaks out when they finally face off against each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was my entry for the 2010 Dominoes & Tequila Motion Pic Flic Challenge. The challenge was to insert Jason Morgan and Sam McCall into any motion picture of our choosing. I chose one of my all-time favorite action films because I always thought it could be a well adapted story for them. For a more intense experience, there are musical links from the movie's soundtrack to enhance Jason and Sam's introductions while you read.
> 
> Disclaimer: Based on the 1998 Motion Picture, The Replacement Killers. Summary was taken from the actual movie with names changed as needed. I do not own rights to the movie or television show and a lot of the dialogue is directly from the film.

1.

-New York City- (Begin Soundtrack: [Jason's Intro](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n3N_Lkgftc4))

The cover of night fell across the city. It was time for the predator to take out his prey. Trained professional that he was; he would have preferred a setting of his own choosing, lower profile, a clean location with near zero chance of fallout or possibility of collateral damage. But this was not his choosing, not his choice at all. He was a hired killer and his orders were to take his target out in a very public way. 

A statement must be made. No one crosses Anthony Zacchara, and lives.

He eased his way past the suited bouncers, his intentional dress and demeanor meeting their scrutiny with the enticing mixture of power and danger known and encouraged to frequent the elite den of sin. The pounding of the techno house beat thumped throughout the cavernous club as he deftly made his way through the crowded dance floor, his mission set, target in his sights. The deejay's track fell on deaf ears. The only sound in his head was the hum of adrenaline as it coursed through his veins. Every sense on edge, poised to eliminate any threat, he halted before a large booth recessed near the back prepared to engage the man about to meet his maker.

No words were spoken, none were necessary. He took in the gluttonous scene before him; bimbos to the left, bodyguards to the right with booze and lines of blow openly displayed before him. He would have pitied this man, if he actually gave a damn. This man was weak, left with nothing except vices. No honor. No code. But there was no need for judgment. Jason Morgan was not his judge. He was his executioner.

The blue-eyed assassin flexed his leather covered hands and forcefully set his message on the table in front of the Rico Suave degenerate. The man looked up, pausing from his intent to inhale another line, angry and curious to see who had the nerve to interrupt his leisure. He'd never seen the man that stood in front of him now. Fairly tall, he noted, with broad shoulders squarely set in a sharp black suit and red satin tie that hinted at the bloodshed to come. He took closer note of the message resting before him; a single bullet with a hand-engraved signature marking... the seal of the Zacchara organization.

He quickly fixed his gaze back on the stranger with the red tie and all other features of the man were lost to him as he felt his blood run cold from the steel blue eyes piercing his drug-induced haze with an icy glare that promised death. Time froze and blurred at once as it always did. Jason was in his element. He knew what would come next, all of it. He counted on it, predicted their movements before they were made. 

The target jumped from his seat pulling his gun, but not before Jason aimed his Beretta pumping three rounds into his chest and one in his forehead. 

Screams and chaos erupted. The target's bodyguard took aim. Jason was ready. He sunk three rounds into his chest before he could pop off a shot. Experience, skill, and his talent took over. His body turned reflexively to eliminate the remaining threats he'd made on the way in; the dark-haired man with the crew cut, flashy jacket and green shirt at the table behind him. Four shots and he was down, with a quickness and agility that could only be attributed to his unwavering focus to his task. 

More screams, patrons ducking and running for cover. Move, moving to line up the next threat before the other body hit the floor. Two shots more and the guy in the red sweater was out, but so was he. Jason's clip was done, but not the danger. Another man was behind him, a sleeper deep in the fray. Jason dropped the useless weapon and in one fluid movement reached back for his 9mm in the waistband of his pants.

Loaded gun in hand, he used the force of his upper body's twisting thrust to pivot his entire frame into a 180 degree turn. Lining him up for his next hit, he swayed as a bullet buzzed past him before popping off four kill shots into the enemy's head and chest. His eyes swept the scene for any remaining hazard. Satisfied with finding none, he exhaled a calming sigh. 

Oblivious to the terrorized witnesses around him; he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a blood-streaked mirror lining the wall where he stood and had to ask himself, was it enough? When would it be enough?

He removed himself from the establishment without delay or fear of consequence. That life was hardly a challenge for him anymore. He would walk away clean. He always did. He was a ghost.

-Waterfront, Port Charles- (End Soundtrack)

Detective Lucky Spencer waited in silence with his men. He'd tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to put the significance of the next few hours out of his mind. But the case was huge. The Port Charles Police Department was finally going to catch one of the biggest, most notorious, organized crime bosses red-handed and Lucky was heading up the bust. Tonight would make or break his career. He'd worked so hard to prove himself since his addiction to pain meds and subsequent recovery after an injury during a shootout that had taken his former partner's life. And finally, finally Commissioner Scorpio had given him his big chance.

He pushed those thoughts away, forcing himself to remain focused on the task at hand. It was minutes from midnight. They should arrive any second. Before he could finish the thought, he picked up the sound of a speed boat rapidly approaching. Lucky raised his night vision goggles to zero in on the luxury boat in question, a boat that screamed quick watery getaway. Four men in dark suits were on board, Zacchara's men. Two were visibly armed bodyguards and the other two, his prime targets.

Lucky clicked over to comms. "Alright, let's roll." He ordered and the masked strike force, dressed in all black, silently moved into position. They watched and patiently waited for the evidence to present itself, for the right moment to strike. Covertly hidden among the shadowed areas afforded by the ships and warehouses full of cargo along that portion of the port, the team awaited Lucky's final signal to show themselves.

The unloading area just outside the warehouse was filled with stacks of cargo. Zacchara's fully armed men made their way to a cleared spot in the center while at least 10 Russians, by Lucky's count, filed in around them armed to the teeth with, not the least of which, were at least five fully automatic Stovolboy Droz-6 Russian assault rifles featuring magazine fed 6 shot 25mm grenade launchers. Those boys were not there to play. It was time for business.

Standing flood lights filled the area as Lucky's team drew nearer with fine stealth. If he had any doubt, there could be no question of the prime target's identity once he stepped foot from the boat and Johnny Zacchara's face shown clearly in the bright light. Johnny stood smug, his dark eyes shimmering with the arrogance of a man that counted his money before leaving the table. His dark unruly curls were smoothed back in a manor becoming the self-proclaimed smooth criminal he thought himself to be.

Johnny was cool and collected, his fine Italian designer suit and shoes never feeling him sweat. And why should it? True; he and his three men appeared outnumbered tonight by his Russian associates, but this was his domain, his turf since having taken over Alcazar's territory there in Port Charles. The rest of that harbor town would be his family's too, once they eliminated Sonny Corinthos once and for all.

The Corinthos organization was an annoyance, a disturbance to his family's very lucrative business that he just didn't have the patience for anymore. Who was this Sonny Corinthos to dictate to a Zacchara what cargo was and was not to move through the city? His deal tonight with the Russians was a major turning point in the upcoming shift of power. Andrei Karpov was a heavy hitter on an international level. The Zacchara organization's partnership, brokered months back, was about to push Sonny from the comfortable thrown he'd fed fat and lazily from for far too long.

Johnny eyed his Russian contact, recognizing him on sight as one of Karpov's generals. The tall, darkly bearded man nodded and signaled his man on the bobcat to bring the goods over for inspection. Karpov's general stepped over to the stack and lifted what appeared to be a sealed and unlabeled canned good. He pulled a titanium combat knife and punctured the seal on the top of the can. A twisting motion caused a hidden cylinder to fall from the bottom. He passed it over to Johnny's right hand man who pulled a sample of the product from the cylinder for testing. Once assured the chemical test was good, he offered a smattering on his knife to Johnny.

Johnny held the drugs to his nose and sniffed a small amount, a Cheshire grin forming over his dark features as he turned to fully face Karpov's head guy. His stern face and tense body relaxed a bit at Johnny's unspoken satisfaction. They nodded to one another, both conceding the deal was good. Johnny leaned down to inhale another small whiff and it was then they made their move.

It was the wind from the silent black helicopter hovering above that gave them away as they closed in. The powder blew from the knife Johnny held to his face before he could inhale, his eyes immediately searching for the cause of the disturbance. But it was too late. Lucky, his new partner Cruz, and the rest of the team had them surrounded, outnumbered and outgunned before anyone could fire a shot.

Lucky made his way toward the young Zacchara with his gun pulled, but pointed at the ground. Confident in the knowledge his team and trusted partner, Cruz, had their guns trained on every threat, a small smirk found Lucky's lips as he shook his head at the over-confidence of the kid before him. He was barely out of college. 

Lucky eyed Johnny carefully, noting the kid's hand behind his back... a weapon to be drawn. The moment of relief vanished as Lucky realized it wasn't over yet. He stared into Johnny's eyes, willing him not to try it. He shook his head once in warning, but Lucky's years on the force told him it was a warning that would not be heeded.

Any experience Johnny acquired working in his father's organization the last four years was forgotten to the arrogance that would not allow that cop to bust him. He would shoot to maim, unwilling to take the life of the brother of the woman he'd loved more than his own life. He would then make his escape in the ensuing crossfire. Johnny whipped his gun to take aim, but Detective Spencer drew faster leaving Johnny with a gunshot wound in the upper right shoulder.

Johnny ran for it and Lucky barked out orders to his men to secure the armed criminals and the confiscated drugs as he headed off in hot pursuit. Johnny weaved his way through the warehouse spitting bullets Lucky's direction as he fled. Lucky ducked back behind a wall nearly missing the open fire, but the bullets would do nothing to discourage his chase. This was his bust. Johnny was his prime target. He would let nothing come between him and completing his mission.

Johnny used Lucky's break for cover to make a run for it. He scrambled from the warehouse across the loading lane toward escape, any escape besides the confines of the warehouse that promised a fate he refused to accept. Lucky shouted more orders over comms. "Everybody hold back! Hold back out there. He's not going anywhere."

Johnny was running scared and scared men did desperate things like make widows out of police officer's wives. Lucky knew this kid. He'd dated his younger sister before becoming a full fledged mobster under his father's tutelage, but, despite his crimes, Johnny was not a murderer. Not yet, and Lucky hoped to keep it that way. 

He'd fired at an officer and Lucky was fully aware that was enough for his men to shoot on sight, but he didn't want that young man's life wasted. He wanted him apprehended and charged for his crimes. Hopefully, that would allow the good young man he'd known years before to re-emerge and find a better way of life for himself.

Johnny bolted top speed, nearly avoiding being hit by a police cruiser as it flashed its blue lights and pulled to a stop. He ran fast, faster, anywhere that would take him away from the sirens and the handcuffs in his wake. Boxed off by cruisers and left with little options, he headed for higher ground. Hoping to lose the cops on a massive freighter, he climbed the ship's ladder favoring his injured shoulder as he gained some distance. But Lucky was still close on his tail.

Johnny made it to the ship's deck kneeling by the railing as he caught his breath. The black copter's spotlight highlighted his location and Johnny turned his head to find a sniper rifle trained on his backside. Lucky rushed onto the scene yelling over comms. "Back away! Back away! Go on, get out of here! I've got it under control," He ordered as he cautiously approached Johnny with his gun trained on him.

The helicopter followed Lucky's command leaving the two in darkness once again with only the ship's scattered deck lighting to reveal the acts to follow. Lucky halted a few feet from Johnny where he squatted. Desperation and panic etched on the kid's face as he loaded another clip into his gun.

"They're gone. Nobody's gonna hurt you. Put that gun down. Put it down!" Lucky pleaded forcefully as he held Johnny's gaze.

This was it. There was no where left to go. He was stuck stories up on the ship overlooking the harbor with a gun trained on him. He knew Lucky would not stop. Johnny was moments from capture and arrest. Anger, fear, and desperation coursed through his heart, soul, and mind until there was nothing left of the hope or love he'd once been blessed to know. Lulu was lost to him and his life had ended that day. It was his fault she was gone and not even the promise of their son's love and devotion could stop his body from reacting. 

In fact, it only fueled him. His son was pure and innocent, uncorrupted. And, suddenly faced with his sins, Johnny knew more now than ever his continued existence was nothing more than a threat to his son. His sister, Claudia, would ensure John Jr. lived a good life far from the cruel and nasty business dealt by his father and grandfather. He knew his sister better than he knew his own self. Claudia would protect his son's innocence with her life. There was really only one action left to take. He would pull his weapon and Lucky would have no choice other than to take him out. If he didn't, then Johnny would see his own gun finished the job.

Lucky could see the decision in Johnny's eyes. "Don't make me!" Lucky begged.

"Tell JJ and my sister, I loved them too much to stay." And with that Johnny raised his loaded weapon leaving Lucky with no alternative.

The solemn resolve was clear in Johnny's final words and movement. Lucky's training kicked in, forcing his split-second reaction. He fired four shots into the young man's chest and head, the force of the blows sending Johnny back over the railing where he fell into the pitch black water below.

xxxxx

A small boy stood quietly in his black suit and tie with a crisp white shirt. All features other than his eyes, an exact duplicate of his father's. His eyes, however, were his mother's. He held his Auntie Claudia's hand, who felt more like a mother to him, as he watched his father's casket silently lowered into the ground. His mother was dead, perishing shortly after giving birth to him, and his Aunt Claudia had been the only mother figure he'd known his whole life. Now his father was dead. He gripped his Auntie Claudia's hand a little tighter as his grandfather Anthony grasped his other hand. His grandfather scared him sometimes.

The sun was shining, shining beautifully on the bright green grass and park-like scenery around them, but it did nothing to lighten the darkness enveloping her heart. She wanted to pull her gun and shoot every last one of the damn birds chirping about merrily. Had it not been for the fucking casket and headstones, Claudia might have believed she were at the park. Just another day at the park with John Jr., but this was no day at the park. Today, she was burying her baby brother. A brother she'd loved and practically raised herself since he was a boy almost the same age as John Jr. now.

Her nephew, John Jr., she loved him every bit as much as she ever loved her brother. Claudia was all he had now and she knew if it were the last thing she ever did, JJ would never go down the same path as his father. The generation of violence would end with her and her brother. She felt little Johnny's hand tighten in her own as her father approached and her heart sank. Try as she might, she'd been unable to keep her father's evil reach from her nephew's life. 

Her father was a very powerful and lethal man. Claudia walked a very fine line while her brother was alive. He was JJ's father and while she'd persuaded Johnny to allow Anthony to have a very limited involvement in John Jr's life, he was involved nonetheless. Now that Johnny was gone, Claudia knew she had to make her move. Anthony would transfer all his hopes and dreams to John Jr. now. He would relentlessly insinuate himself into that innocent child's life until he'd managed to turn him as corrupt as his father became after the death of John Jr's mother, Lulu Spencer Zacchara.

Detective Lucky Spencer stood off in the distance watching his four year old nephew stand at his father's grave with the full weight of what he'd taken from the son of the sister he loved so much crushing down on him.

The service had ended and he watched as Claudia and JJ made their way to the waiting limo, surrounded by armed guards dressed in black suits and ties with white shirts and shades covering their eyes. This was his nephew's life, he sighed. JJ saw him from across the way and paused. The little boy scarcely knew his uncle, but just enough to recognize him. He gave Lucky a small smile and Lucky returned it in kind. His pained eyes looked up to meet Claudia's and Lucky knew then he'd never find forgiveness there.

Anthony Zacchara spotted the man, the cop who'd murdered his only son, and rage replaced his sorrow as he neared the detective. His right hand, Trevor Lansing, never far from his side and several of the armed bodyguards followed.

Trevor removed his sunglasses as they approached. "It could be considered inappropriate for a murderer to appear at his victim's burial, detective."

"Just here to pay my respects." Lucky returned.

"Respect? For the blood of my child? My orphaned grandson!" Anthony spewed.

"Your son made his choice." Lucky reasoned.

"And you made your choice, detective, the day you chose to pursue your vendetta against me, against my family." Anthony's black and murderous gaze left little question of the threat his hatred posed toward the cop.

"Detective, your position offers you far more opportunity for arrogance than safety." Lucky felt his partner stiffen at his side upon hearing Trevor's veiled threat. Lucky nodded once. They understood one another perfectly. Lucky would need to watch his back.

-New York City-

Jason walked down the loud over-crowded streets and side alleyways of little Italy until arriving at his destination, a bakery owned and operated by an unassuming old man. He worked for Zacchara. Everyone in little Italy worked for Zacchara in one way, or another. They just didn't all know it. He nodded recognition to the young woman at the register and headed to the back room where his contact awaited. It was protocol. The old man would hand him a sealed black envelope and Jason Morgan would make the person listed in that envelope disappear.

Jason stood before the elderly man as he sat at a small desk. The man, accustomed to Jason's lack of verbal response, simply nodded his welcome. Jason nodded in return and as expected, the old man pulled a sealed black envelope from a drawer in his desk and handed it to Jason.

Jason reached out to accept the paper and was surprised by the old man's words. "Change of plans. Mr. Zacchara needs to see you personally."

The old man pointed toward the front and Jason knew without having seen, or heard it, an escorted ride would await him when he exited the bakery.

-Zacchara Mansion-

Jason remained silent the entire hour and thirty minute ride showing little movement until the limo entered the gates of the Zacchara estate and pulled past armed men up to the main house.

Jason was escorted by guards to a large dining room where his eyes found the devil himself sitting at the head of the table with Satan's right hand, Trevor Lansing, at his side. Jason was well aware of the old man's tenable grip on sanity and so he remained silent, preferring instead to wait and see how their meeting played out.

"My son is dead." Anthony revealed.

Jason didn't know what he'd expected to hear, but it hadn't been that Johnny Zacchara was dead. He flashed back several years, remembering Johnny before he'd gotten caught up in the business. Jason had seen a good side to the young man's heart in the way he had loved Lulu Spencer. What a waste. "My condolences," Jason offered the evil bastard.

Anthony motioned for Jason to be seated and he sat, not wanting to provoke the psychotic break he was sure Anthony was only one small step away from.

"A child is irreplaceable, which brings us to your task," Anthony began.

"It involves a cop. That's why we want an outsider." Trevor continued.

"After that, your obligation to me ends." Anthony offered, leaning forward with conviction and revenge masking his face. Anthony took one of his single signature bullets containing the Zacchara seal and placed it soundly on the table in front of Jason.

Jason held the bullet in his hand as he contemplated the severity of accepting the next hit.

-Spencer Residence-

Jason positioned himself high in the wooded area across from his target's location. He'd surveyed the area and made sure to cover his position as well as ensure a clean escape. He rolled out his leather mat containing one of the many nasty tools of his trade.

He methodically assembled the sniper rifle as he lay in wait for his target to arrive. The familiar click of the assembly locking and the feel of the hard metal as it slid into place relaxed his nerves until they melted away into nothing. He was focused with a single-minded precision to see this through. He had no choice. After this, it would be enough, he reminded himself.

Rifle assembled, he removed his shades as a car approached. He waited until the last moment to open the scope to avoid revealing his location from light reflecting off the glare of the glass lens. Lucky pulled up and parked his unmarked sedan in front of his home. He stepped out carrying the new basketball he'd promised his son, Cameron.

Jason followed the detective in his sight as he ascended his driveway toward his house. He cringed seeing Elizabeth and Cameron rush toward Lucky. No, no names today. Target, this was his target. He had no other choice. Jason swallowed his regret and steeled himself for the shot that would change everything in that family's life. Change his life, forever. Whether he was caught, or not, he knew he would never forgive himself for what he was about to do.

His finger steadied on the trigger, ready and waiting. Elizabeth smiled, hugged her husband, and welcomed him home with a kiss. Cameron rushed into his father's arms. Jason pushed the names out of his head, pushed the faces from his memory. 

He kept his sight trained and watched the scene unfold. Lucky smiled and attempted keep-away with Cameron as he jumped to grab the ball again. They laughed. Elizabeth smiled. Jason hesitated. He couldn't stop the emotion that crept its way past his stone-cold killing facade. Cameron claimed possession of the ball and Lucky swung him up into the air to make the basket in the hoop there on the drive. Now! Take the shot, he ordered himself!

Jason blinked. His eyes were watering. He blinked again, longer, attempting to reclaim his nerve. His entire being warred within himself. How could he take that shot? But how could he not, knowing what it meant if he didn't? His body shook as logic battled his heart in a blood-thirsty crusade. He closed his eyes. He breathed deep. 

The war was over. 

Jason slowly removed his finger from the trigger. He couldn't take the shot. He would not take the shot.

The wind stirred the fallen leaves about as Elizabeth and Cameron made their way back inside and the hair on the back of Lucky's neck stood on end in that moment, causing him to give a thoughtful glance to the bank of trees and brush across the street from him. It was almost as if a sixth sense had whispered to him how close life as he knew it had come to ending. Elizabeth called out to him, breaking the dark spell, and Lucky turned to head inside with his wife and son.

-Queen of Angels-

Jason entered the church with the usual surprise of not being struck down by lightning. Not many people knew it, but he was a spiritual man. He believed in a higher power and he was also very aware that he would probably never meet Him. His life of sin had all but ensured him to a life in Hell. Jason was certain of it. Still, he prayed. He prayed for forgiveness and the strength to make the right choices, even though his life left him with little choice at all these days.

He wasn't there now to seek forgiveness, but rather assistance from one of the only men he could trust not to betray him.

Father Coates immediately recognized the man in the black leather jacket. Kneeling at the front of the church, Jason said a silent prayer for his family. He hoped his father and grandmother might hear his plea and help watch over those they left behind.

Father Coates knelt next to the troubled soul he'd come to know and trust. Jason Morgan may have committed many sins, but there was an honor about him that separated him from the heinous criminal element Father Coates had seen all too often during his days as a missionary in South America. He waited for Morgan's words to come. They always did, eventually.

"I went against Anthony Zacchara today. There will be consequences." Jason confessed.

"What can I do to help?" He offered without question. It was a chance to repay Mr. Morgan for all the help he'd provided the mission over the years.

"I'm worried about my mother and sister. I want you to take them from Bogota to some place safe." Jason spoke in a near whisper. He knew the great risk he asked of Father Coates in order to help save Emily and Monica, but once again he was left without much choice. Father Coates had history and connections. His visit wouldn't raise suspicion. He would be able to move safely about the country with little, if any, resistance.

Jason pulled a large banded stack of cash from his jacket pocket. "Here's some money. Help me send it to them." His eyes pleaded as he placed the bills in the priest's hands.

Father Coates' face was full of concern for the man before him and the two women he knew would surely be killed if caught. His words assured Jason he would do all he could to help, but there were no guarantees. "You're talking about Anthony Zacchara. Safe has a very limited meaning."

-Zacchara Mansion-

Anthony stood at the French doors of his study which led to the terrace and lawn beyond. He watched as his daughter, Claudia, played with John Jr. in the garden. Little Johnny ran chasing her, laughing. It was good to see the little boy's smile and laughter after enduring so much loss. Seeing the carefree way his daughter interacted with his grandson was almost enough to make him forget she was just another traitorous bitch like her mother.

The bond was strong between John Jr. and Claudia and he knew that would have to end, just as it had when he'd sent Claudia away the first time when JJ's father was a boy. This time, however, she would have a permanent vacation. John Jr. was destined to take his father's rightful place as the head of his family's business. Anthony would see to it.

Still, given all his grandson had lost recently, Anthony couldn't bring himself to take his Auntie Claudia away from the boy just yet. He'd decided it was in his grandson's best interests to give him a year to recover from the loss of his father before dealing with his Auntie Claudia's disappearance.

Trevor sighed deeply and braced for the reaction of the unfortunate news he was about to deliver. "Anthony, there's a problem," Trevor began.

Anthony growled and slung his drink crashing against the fireplace as he listened to his attorney tell him of Jason Morgan's betrayal. "I want him gone, annihilated! His mother and sister too. Use as many as it takes to get the job done and to finish what that fool couldn't. I want them dead. Dead, do you hear me? Alllll Dead!" Anthony raged.

Trevor nodded. "I'll see that it's done." He paused waiting for Anthony to settle a bit. "What about Claudia? How much is she to know?" Trevor felt it necessary to ask seeing as how Anthony had allowed Claudia a place in the family's business as part of Johnny's agreement to take his rightful place. But, now that Johnny was gone...

"Tell her nothing. She wouldn't understand or agree with these uglier, but necessary actions. A woman can't be trusted not to react irrationally and I can't afford any discord between her considering she holds my grandson's heart in her hands, for now." Anthony sighed, signaling Trevor with a head jerk toward the door for him to leave him with his thoughts.

-Jake's-

Coleman chewed out his suppliers in the back room for attempting to short him once again before heading back out front where the evening crowd was gathering. He busied himself with serving up the beers and banter as the jukebox blared in the background. His cell phone went off and he answered. "Yeah, whatta ya want?"

Jason stood outside a local Radio Shack with a prepaid phone in his hand that he'd just purchased to make a call to one of the few people in low places he knew he could count on not to stab him in the back. It was too risky to be seen in Jake's right now. "Coleman, it's Jason."

"Hey, what happened? Piece wasn't where I left it? I put it there myself." He was referring to the sniper rifle he'd acquired for Jason's last hit.

"It was there." Jason paused, his solemn tone revealing the seriousness of the situation. "I need a passport. Can you help me?"

"Yeah, I'll just call Logan Hayes. It's no problem." Coleman made his way to the back. The music was too loud and the conversation needed a bit of privacy.

"No. He works for Anthony."

"Everyone works for Anthony, or Sonny. What do you want?" Coleman wondered what the hell he might be getting himself into as he polished off a shot.

"I want someone who doesn't." Jason clarified in a manner that had Coleman's gut doing flip-flops. There was trouble on the way, big trouble, and Coleman knew it. But Jason was a stand up guy, not to mention a professional hitman, so Coleman was going to help him out no questions asked.

"Hmm," Coleman considered. "I know this broad. I try not to use her too much. She's a pain in the ass, you know what I mean? Her name is Sam McCall."

"Sam McCall?" Jason repeated to make certain he'd gotten the name correct.

"Yeah. She's in the old Donely building down on the waterfront. You know her? I'll hook you up in the morning. Where ya going to be?"

"Better if you don't know." Jason told him.

"Alright Hoss, watch your back huh?" Coleman flipped his phone closed ending the call and praying it wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass, or worse.

Jason hung up and trashed the brand new mobile phone as he took in his surroundings with the psychopath's words reverberating in his head; No one crosses Anthony Zacchara, and lives. Jason knew potential threats lie around every corner for him now and there was no such thing as being too careful.

Zacchara's reach was far. He'd have to go underground until he could get what he needed from that Sam McCall in the morning. He just hoped despite Coleman's assessment that she was a pain in the ass, she was also competent enough to get the job done. Something in the way Coleman spoke of her made him doubtful, but desperate times called for desperate measures.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

-Waterfront District-

Jason stared at the building across the street. Old? Coleman had said the “old Donely building.” But Jason had seen ancient ruins that looked better than that place. It was a seven story, dark brick building that looked as though it had been transported from Europe sometime during the war, after the German bombers got a hold of it. Bricks and mortar were missing in patches and the paint on the window frames was so peeled that he could barely tell what the original color had been. The sign stood, still affixed to the top of the building, but instead of reading Donely as he was sure it once had, it now simply said “Done.” And that's exactly what it was too, Jason agreed as he pursed his lips and nodded.

He was starting to rethink the wisdom of using this source at all. Anybody that chose to lease business space in that shit hole obviously wasn't making enough money to afford better. And if this Sam McCall wasn't making good money selling forged documents how good could she be? The last thing he needed was to get detained at the airport with a lousy fake passport. Still, he was running out of time and options. He sighed in frustration and shook his head.

Jason quickly checked his surroundings as he walked towards the building and found it all clear. He could hear ship's horns from the harbor and figured that was probably the best thing the building had going for it, location. As one of the tallest structures around, it probably had a gorgeous view of the port. Jason headed up the wide concrete steps to the oversized entry. He stepped inside and, not surprisingly, wasn't surprised. The inside didn't look any better, but it did look clean. That was something, he guessed.

The hardwood floors shined as well as all of the old trim. Mahogany, if he had to guess. The lobby took up half of the first floor which was sizable and spacious with a high ceiling. There was a wide open expanse from left to right with a few sofas and chairs that looked original, and not in a good way, and a huge fireplace centered on the wall to the right. There was a large front desk with a high counter near the far wall on the left, but no one manning the station. They probably retired with the superintendent back in the 60's. He saw a directory on the wall and headed for it.

According to the board, management held offices on that floor and the only other tenants were a P.I. firm on the third floor and a business on the seventh. But all it said was “Print Shop Photography” with no name. He thought about it for a second and decided he didn't think the P.I. firm was who he wanted based on the odd name, but print shop photography would make a good front to explain away any of the equipment needed for creating false identification.

Jason stepped into the hall around the corner, looking for the elevator. He paused again in front of it and cocked his head. It looked sketchy. He was certain there must be elevators all around the world built in the 1940's that were still quite reliable, but he was also certain looking at that one now, he wasn't willing to bet his life on it.

He turned to the right and opted for the stairs. 

“Great. She would have an office all the way on the top floor.” He mumbled to himself as he climbed.

Coleman's other words sprang to mind and Jason decided he was right. This Sam McCall was already a pain in the ass.

xxxxx

Sam McCall was having one hell of a good morning, and if you knew Sam McCall at all, you would know Sam didn't do mornings. So, having a good one was about as frequent as 29 days in February. Today was different though. After four and a half long years since she'd arrived in that small town, her business was finally taking off which wasn't as easy as it sounded. It wasn't like she could really advertise her services in the yellow pages. Well, at least not all of them. She still maintained just enough corporate accounts on her books for tax purposes and to deter anyone from asking too many questions.

She took a moment to slowly savor the last bit of her favorite coffee. Seriously, it was like nectar of the gods. Those mob bosses sure did know how to import one hell of a fine coffee bean, she mused. To top it off, she was nearly done with a package that was going to put her in the black for about 10 large. Easy money, she grinned. She'd always had a gift for fake ID's even in her teens, but it wasn't until her last bit of trouble with the law several years ago that she came up with her new business plan.

Wanting to get some distance from the boys in blue in New York City, she opted for this small town largely for its notoriety with a surplus of the criminal element and the high ratio of unsolved crimes by local law enforcement. After all, location is key.

She looked around at her surroundings, her office. Well, her back -back office. There was a front office, a printing office, a dark room, a back office that everyone thought was the real back office, an office she used as her bedroom, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a whole other side of offices she didn't even use. She loved this place. It was a shit hole, but it was her shit hole.

Sam paused thoughtfully. That was harsh. It wasn't a shit hole. That was how she was sure everyone else saw it, but she saw more. In her mind, she saw what it once was and what it could be again. She loved the 1940's style. All the built-in shelving, original fixtures, frosted glass doors with transoms, beautiful mahogany trim, and hardwood floors. Sure, there were huge patches of missing plaster, exposing the wood lath beneath. The electrical wiring was barely up to code, as well as the plumbing, but this place had potential. Truthfully, she admitted she couldn't be sure if anything was really up to code, or if palms had been greased. It was Port Charles after all, which was why she always took the stairs. That elevator downstairs just looked sketchy.

Living in that building did have its advantages though. For one thing, anyone passing by the place would never guess her office was equipped with the most advanced technology available before it was even available. It was deceptive and she liked that. In her line of work, it was important to keep a low profile.

She also liked that she was one of only two tenants at present. The building had been vacant for some time when she first came to town and had called the owner with interest. Sam had been the only tenant for three years, until a young kid starting up a new P.I. firm leased some office space on the third floor. She'd been a little leery of him at first, low profile to keep and all, but she'd run into him a few times on the stairs and there was just something about him she couldn't help liking. That is, once he managed to untie his tongue and stop ogling and objectifying her.

He still called her Goddess, she noted with a slight cringe. He had an odd way of speaking and seemed to give everyone equally odd nicknames, but she'd grown to live with hers better after hearing some of the others. Of course, sometimes he called her Fair Samantha and that made her smile. He was, without a doubt, the only one she'd ever let get away with calling her by her full first name since she was a teen. It just reminded her of bad times and bad people. But when he said it, there was something innocent and endearing about it and she liked it. It was nice.

Though she'd decided early on that this kid, Spinelli (she called him by his last name) was a good kid, she still wasn't too keen on the idea of sharing her space. So, a few months after Spinelli setup shop she contacted the owner. She was now leasing the top two floors with first right of refusal should any other perspective tenants show an interest in any other space. She had no real use for the floor below her, but it served as a good privacy barrier.

She loved being on the top floor for several reasons. First, and probably the silliest, was that 7 was her lucky number. A second reason was more practical. It was safer. Nobody had any business up on the top floor unless they were there to see her and they'd have to want to see her pretty bad to be willing to risk that elevator ride or climb all those stairs. 

The best reason was the unimpeded view. It was truly spectacular. She could see forever into the harbor and she loved watching all the ships headed in or out of port. She could sit for hours just taking in the gorgeous view, and did sometimes, and that was why she'd decided a couple years back that one day she was going to buy that old building and restore it to its former glory. And then she was going to buy a boat.

xxxxx

Jason reached the top of the stairs and wanted to die. He told himself he was seriously going to have to put in more time on cardio and then realized how ridiculous that thought was under the circumstances. If he made it out of his current situation alive, though, he'd definitely need more cardio. He glanced both directions down a wide hallway and decided to go left. Why the hell would anyone choose to lease the top floor when all those floors below were empty he asked himself, and as he thought about it and his breathing regulated, the less he wanted to die and the more he wanted to kill Sam McCall.

(Begin Soundtrack:[ Sam's Intro](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zX4unWBNbRA&feature=related))

Sam was back at work. She sat at her table in the back -back office putting the finishing touches on a passport. She carefully placed the precisely cut strip of paper containing the forged information in place with tweezers while using another tool to press it into place.

The table was littered with all of her tools of the trade. A black light, a bright halogen light, several different sized magnifying glasses, a glass mat, an exacto knife with various blades, tweezers, rulers, various solvents and adhesives lay about and, right now, she was using a small hand held dryer to ensure her wet forge dried nice and evenly.

Sam held her finished product up under the larger magnifying glass and rolled it around under the black light for scrutiny. She smiled. She had done it again. It was damn good work. The best, if she did say so herself, but she didn't think she did. She hadn't heard any complaints yet. In fact, word had traveled fast after coming through for a local by the name of Luke Spencer, and she'd since received a fairly decent amount of referrals considering she wasn't connected. 

Sam valued her life, so she decided a long time ago to avoid the mob scene. She preferred to live and let live, unless provoked. It was another reason she'd left New York City. Zacchara had the town locked down. She hadn't wanted to work for him, so she left. Only, word was, he'd set his eyes on Corinthos' territory and now ran part of his operation out of what used to be Alcazar's old haunts. Life in Port Charles was getting more dangerous by the day.

The buzzer went off on her intercom and Sam looked over at the live feed on her monitor to see a man standing at her front office door.

She reached over and pushed the button to talk. “Yeah?”

“Sam McCall?” Jason half questioned, half announced.

“Never heard of him.” People always assumed Sam was a guy so she went with it. Just one more added level of security.

Jason turned from the door and faced the empty wall on the left. He stared straight up and into the camera he'd spotted as he approached. “Coleman, Coleman sent me.”

Now, how the hell had he spotted her camera? It wasn't like it was sticking out. You'd have to know what to look for to notice anything at all.

She took her hand off the button. “Great,” she mumbled. She needed to make the drop off for that package and collect the other half of her cash. Now was not a good time for whatever hard luck case Coleman sent her way. Still, he didn't look like a hard luck case. His black leather jacket must have cost a fortune, black tee-shirt, designer blue jeans and black boots. He looked... good.

She pressed the button again slightly irked by the interruption, but curious. “Alright, well just hang on a second.” She told him then made her way back up front. She pulled the back -back office door closed and twisted the key in the lock and pulled it from the door. She then made her way over to her chest of drawers and hid the finished passport in the top drawer within her lingerie. She grabbed her jacket off her bed. 

She was in a black slip of a dress and wanted the additional cover and comfort her leather jacket provided when meeting the stranger. She exited the door to her bedroom and pulled it closed as well then finally made her way to the front office. On her way, she told herself she'd have to get that camera checked out. Nobody's eyes could be that blue.

She sat down at her desk and reached over to push the lock release on the door while speaking into the intercom. “Alright, come on in.”

Sam didn't know this man, so she took comfort in keeping her hand on the 9mm holster-mounted under her desk for just such occasions. Again, a girl could never be too careful.

Jason entered the office and took a quick glance around. It didn't look much better than the rest of the building, if any. But when he first laid eyes on her, he felt his heart and lungs stop and he thought he might die again. 

She was petite, and thin, but with an unusually well-endowed chest for such a small frame. Her dark brown hair was pinned up with locks loosely falling about. Her eyes were like bourbon shimmering in the sunlight and he'd never seen a more beautiful face his entire life, or lips more perfect for kissing.

His reaction startled him. He'd never had that strong a reaction over a woman he just met. Hell, he hadn't even met her yet. He just saw her across the room. What the hell was he thinking? He focused back on the business at hand. He observed the somewhat awkward way she sat at her desk and smiled. She had a gun trained on him under that desk. He'd bet his sweet toned ass she did and, somehow, that only made her more appealing.

“Can I help you?” Sam asked and smiled in return as her finger caressed the trigger.

He stood at ease in front of her as he responded. “I need a package.”

“A package? What's a package?” It wasn't Sam's first time around the block, though it may be his. She wasn't sure yet, but she was sure there was nothing wrong with her camera. The man had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. They nearly took her breath away as he stared at her now, but she worked to keep her head.

“Papers, you know.” Why was the woman playing dumb with him, he wondered. It wasn't like he didn't come with a reference from Coleman. Although, thinking on that some more, he supposed that wasn't saying a whole hell of a lot and a girl could never really be too careful, especially in her business.

“No, I don't know. I'm kind of slow that way, so I think you're going to have to be verrrrry specific. I mean, I'm a print shop photographer. I provide all kinds of papers; brochures, flyers, business cards, letterhead, manuals, bound presentations...” What was this guy, brain damaged or something? She didn't know him from one of the holes in her wall. She sure as hell wasn't about to trust Coleman's idea of a “stand up guy.”

Jason appreciated the irony of her statement if not the humor. How many times had he insisted he was simply a coffee importer? He stepped to her slowly, not wanting to make any sudden movements while a gun was pointed at his crotch. He placed his knuckles on her desk and leaned over toward her then spoke each word in a slow and low, steady voice so she got it. “I want forged documents to Colombia.”

“Okay, you said forged. We'll do it. Now, have a seat.” She gestured toward the guest chair across from her. 

Jason stood back from the desk and remained standing with his hands clasped in front of him without saying a word. He just stared at her.

“Or not,” Sam stared back.

This guy was just right up on her and she'd taken a swim in those beautiful blue eyes. Everything from his muscular body to the way he carried himself was intimidating as hell. It made her chest tense up and her pulse race, in a good way. His black shirt hung to him, making her want to see the sculpted promise beneath.

Where the hell had that come from? Get a grip, she silently admonished herself. This is business. Can't get all hot and bothered by any guy that walks through the door. Just because it's been a while... How long has it been? One, two, ten, her mind continued counting... Oh my God! Over a year and a half? That can't be right?! 

She hadn't been with anyone since that jerk doctor. He seemed decent enough, no creeper vibes and sexy as hell. Not as sexy as the guy in front of her, she had to admit, but still. He was employed, and he'd met all the mandatory requirements for a lease with the option to buy. That is, until after the hot, sweaty sex they'd shared and he'd promptly shown his arrogant self-righteous ass. That was the last time she picked anyone up from Jake's ever again, she told herself.

“I don't have much time.” Jason informed her, wondering why she just kept staring at him.

“I see that,” She mumbled, noting the look of impatience on his face. “Columbia... Alright, you're going to need a visa if you plan to be there longer than 60 days, and a passport. Now, to make coming and going easier, your new identity will be an American citizen. So what you need is going to cost you.” She really hoped the guy wasn't wasting her time.

“No problem.”

“The only way money isn't a problem is if I see it up front because I don't like hassling with hassles. You know what I'm saying?” Just show me the money was a motto that suited her fine.

Jason had to smile at her cute tough girl spiel. He pulled a stack of c-notes from his pocket and began laying them out on her desk. He kept laying them down until he saw her smile, then stopped.

Thank you, Coleman, she smiled on the sly. Finally allowing herself to take her hand off the gun, she picked up the stack of cash. “How soon did you say you need this?”

She sat back in her chair and examined the bills in the light.

“I'll leave here for the airport, one hour.” Sam's smile faded at his words. “That soon?”

He just blinked with the same cool face he'd worn since she met him. Sam sighed and shrugged. “Alright, back up.” 

She picked up her digital camera off the desk, but Jason didn't move. He just continued to stare. If he didn't blink she'd swear he was a stone. “You have to back up because I'm taking your picture. It won't come out right if you don't.” She informed, irritated by his stubbornness.

He nodded once and stepped back allowing her to take his photograph. Sam began entering the information for his new identity into her computer. She asked him his name and he told her it was Jason Morgan. The name seemed to fit, but she knew it was probably just another alias like the name he'd use on his new passport. She didn't take offense at the lie, you had to be careful who you trusted. She was typing away when another buzz sounded.

She looked over at the camera's feed to see two men standing outside her door. The visitors were definitely unexpected and something about the way they held themselves didn't sit right with her. She pushed the button to respond. “Yeah?”

“Sam McCall,” One of the men announced.

Yeah, they definitely didn't sit right with her. Most first-timers didn't sound so sure they had the right place when they buzzed her door and that confusion was intentional on her part. These guys were way too sure they had the right place and that meant she was at a disadvantage. They knew something about her she didn't know about them.

“Never heard of him.” She replied, and the hesitation of her voice and the worry on her face said exactly what Jason's gut was telling him. Something wasn't right.

Jason observed the monitor as the two men shuffled to either side of the door. And in a flash, one had pulled a pump-action shot-gun and the other a semi-automatic from their coats. Jason drew his gun and Sam pulled hers from under the desk as shot gun blasts blew the door open sending glass flying.

The man aimed his shot-gun at Sam and she lunged for cover behind her desk as her monitor exploded from the hit. Jason hugged the wall, waiting for the man to step inside. Sam took off running for the back offices as the guy pumped the rifle again while stepping through the doorway to follow the shot and take her out.

Jason took him by surprise and grabbed the shot gun with one hand and shot two rounds point blank dead center into the guys heart with the other. Before the second man could react, Jason had lined him up and capped off seven rounds into his body. A third man with dark hair and a foo-man chu took his place, sending a spray of bullets Jason's way and cutting off his exit.

Sam ran full speed through the dark room and maze of offices to her fire escape in the very back. Just as she reached to open the window, a fourth man sprayed a round of gunfire at her. She jumped back, barely escaping the assault, ducking and running as the bullets left a trail down the wall.

Jason was still exchanging rounds with the third gunman as they took turns shooting and ducking. He heard gunshots coming from the direction Sam had run and now his focus was split.

Sam ran past her dark room down the center doorways through the offices and back toward the front. She knew the fourth gunman was on her heels, but her gun was jammed. She quickly tapped the bottom of the clip and racked the slide to the rear, ejecting the projectile that caused the jam and sent five rounds of scatter fire his way just as he cleared the doorway. He jumped back before being hit or being able to return fire.

Sam turned and headed back towards Jason as Jason slipped back her way to help her. The third gunman charged through the front office door, hiding behind the desk and firing as Jason shot back. Sam yelled a warning as she ran toward him, stopping in her tracks as the third gunman took advantage of Jason's distraction to better his position.

Sam shot at the man taking aim at Jason, clipping him in the right leg and sending his gun flying from his hands before he could shoot. As Jason turned toward Sam, he saw the fourth gunman racing up from behind her about to shoot. He took aim unloading three rounds into his chest and taking him out as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Sam, each covering the others back. Jason shifted back around to eliminate the third guy, finding Sam had already taken care of him. He was still kicking around on the ground, but not shooting at them anymore.

Who was this woman, his mind pressed to know? She'd just shown incredible speed and agility, kept her cool, and saved his ass. His ass, a woman capable of saving his ass, he marveled. He looked at her as she stood there holding her gun on the man on the ground. She was breathless, and angry, and it was sexy as hell. He wanted to be impressed, but there wasn't time. Adrenaline was still pumping and the senses were on high alert. It was quiet, but he still felt the threat, and so did she.

They both took in the scene, scanning for the unseen threat their body told them was there and waiting silently for something to give it away. Then it happened, Jason heard the pump action of a shot-gun and grabbed Sam, pulling her out of the line of fire seconds before the blast would have killed her. A fifth man with a shot-gun kicking his way through back doors was firing at them. Jason shielded Sam as he ran with her, sending shots back toward the gunman as they headed back to the fire escape.

The fifth gunman pursued cautiously, finally reaching the back and found Sam descending the ladder. He stepped out onto the escape and prepared to fire down at her, but Jason hadn't headed down. His upper body swooped down from the ladder above, grasping the man in a head lock and twisting his neck until it snapped.

Sam paused to take in the scene before making her way to the street then took off running, but she didn't get far. Cops had responded to all the gun fire and two black and whites rolled up blocking her escape. She was surrounded and there was no getting out of it. She raised her hands behind her head in defeat as the cop began to cuff her. She looked up and saw Jason making a clean get away on the rooftop. He stopped at the top of a ladder in mid-stride, mesmerized by her. She just stared at him, pissed, but didn't give him away and he vanished without further pause.

-Zacchara Mansion-

Trevor Lansing found his boss examining paperwork at his desk. “He's still out there, but he won't get to Columbia.” Their attempted hit at the forger's office was unsuccessful.

Anthony removed his reading glasses and lowered his pen. “We shouldn't be chasing our problems, Mr. Lansing. We should be solving them.”

“How would you like this handled?” Trevor awaited further instruction.

Anthony narrowed his eyes in contemplation. “Bring in professionals, men of Morgan's talent.” 

Trevor nodded in compliance. He knew just who to bring in for this kill.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

-PCPD-

Sam sat in the tiny interrogation room and shifted uncomfortably in the stiff chair, getting more pissed with every passing minute. Fucking Coleman, she thought to herself for about the 67th time since her arrest. For the first time in a long time she'd allowed herself to feel really hopeful about her future and then it quickly went to shit with the arrival of Coleman's referral. That asshole, what was his name? Jason Morgan had brought trouble to her door. Trouble she'd gone to great lengths to avoid for years and now her business, her home, and possibly even her life was destroyed.

She should have known. The moment she began to let herself hope, she should have known better. She just wasn't destined for good things. Her life experience had taught her as much over and over again. She stared down at her nails picking at one with her thumbnail out of boredom and, what, she didn't know. Resignation, she guessed.

What the hell was taking these cops so long, she huffed? No sense prolonging the inevitable. Dammit, she cursed herself. If she'd just ran the other way when she got off that ladder, maybe she could have outmaneuvered them. But she hadn't and four wheels were faster than two legs and when the other patrol car had blocked off her other exit, she knew she was caught. 

But not Jason Morgan, no his ass had glided away along the rooftops like a freaking ghost. She hoped to hell she never saw him again, and then she thought some more and decided she hoped she did, so she could kick his ass.

Detective Lucky Spencer walked into the interrogation room with two coffees in hand and his partner, Detective Cruz Rodriguez, following him in with a folder and a box.

“Coffee no sugar okay?” He asked as he placed a cup in front of her.

“With no sugar and a ham sandwich would be better. I mean I have been sitting here for twelve fucking hours,” It hadn't really been that long, but it felt like it and Sam was in no mood to play nice with this cop thinking a cup of coffee was going to soften her up.

Lucky allowed the crass remark to slide off his back. Looked like the waiting game he'd played had only pissed her off instead of softened her up. No matter, he mused. Anger was just another emotion he could use to get her to talk. Should be pretty easy, he figured. He'd push a few buttons and get her to spill.

He removed his jacket, placing it over the back of his chair and sat down across from her. “Alright, let's see what Sam McCall is all about. Shall we?”

Cruz set a file on the table. Lucky opened it and took a look. “A slew of bad checks, no fraud, no heavy felonies here. Still, what you lack in weight you make up for in volume. Twelve arrests before your sweet sixteen. It's a little unusual for a girl of that age to be in that much trouble. Don't you think?”

“Well, I've always considered myself a feminist pioneer.” Sam quipped. Questions about her past always brought out the smart ass in her.

Lucky had to chuckle at that. Yeah, she really was pissed. He carried on. “Well, you've been clean here for about four and a half years. That's a good thing. You either got smart, or you've been very, very lucky.”

“Is there a third choice?” Cruz chimed in. He didn't appreciate the woman's flippant attitude when they had a case with multiple homicides to solve.

“It doesn't matter. Your good luck ran out today. So now let's talk about your office and four dead bodies.” Lucky got to the heart of the matter.

Sam sipped her coffee casually. “I'll bite. Where did they come from?”

“You did it to them, didn't you?” Lucky assessed Sam shrewdly for any tells.

Sam huffed in disbelief. “Detective, do you really think a lightweight like me did all that damage?”

Actually, he knew she didn't. It was the other reason she'd been waiting so long. Lucky wanted more to go on before talking with her. So, they rushed ballistics and found Sam's gun hadn't been the one to shoot any of the four dead guys. Lucky held out a faded printout of a face. “Who is that?”

Sam's heart sped up a bit seeing they'd pulled Jason's image off her shot up computer, but at least the image was almost unidentifiable. It was incredibly washed out. She retained her cool facade. “Looks like a ghost.”

“Aw, come on Sam. You can do better than that.” Lucky challenged.

“It was on a hard drive recovered from a computer in your office.” Cruz spoke again, still standing. Standing and pacing while someone was being raked over the coals was nerve-wracking and a technique Cruz used often during interrogations.

Lucky set the photo down on the table and sighed. “You're a bright girl in a bad place. I can help you.”

Sam stared at him. “Yeah? Well, you see detective, I can't seem to remember one single bad place a cop ever helped me out of.”

She wasn't stupid. She wasn't telling them anything.

Lucky wasn't getting anywhere. He took a look at another sheet in the file. Time to push harder. “Is that so? Well, somebody had to help you out when you were fourteen. Custodial placement? But you don't remember that do you?”

“Fuck you! You don't know a gah damn thing about me.” Now Sam was really pissed. Who was that asshole to bring up her past and throw it in her face? He had no idea the shit she'd had to overcome, how hard it was to keep that past behind her and there he was throwing it in her face?

Well that struck a nerve, Lucky sighed. Now he was getting somewhere. He stood up, taunting her. “I know everything about you. It's all right here in black and white.” He slapped the paper down in front of her. “Go on, read it.”

Cruz picked up the box he'd carried in earlier and emptied its contents, spilling about thirty blank passports of various countries on the table.

Lucky continued. “It's your life. Nobody screwed it up, but yourself.”

Sam glared at him, thinking it might be worth the added charge to punch him just now. Lucky picked up a couple of the passports and held them up to her. “You're looking at two years here.”

“Minimum,” Cruz added.

Sam was silent, but the looks she was throwing Lucky told him he was a son of a bitch. She breathed deep as her jaw tightened.

“Oh, you're not as smart as you think you are, are you, because if you were you wouldn't be messing around with Anthony Zacchara!” There was the tell-tale moment. Lucky watched for Sam's reaction to his words.

“Anthony Zacchara?” Shit shit fucking shit, she cursed silently to herself and tried to hide the fear she was sure jumped from her heart to her face as well as the concern in her voice at the mention of that man. What the hell kind of trouble was that Morgan guy mixed up in?

It was there and it was gone just as quick, but Lucky caught it, the alarm that registered on her face at the mention of Zacchara's name. “That's right, Anthony Zacchara. Where the hell do you think all those dead bodies in your office came from?”

Sam needed to make things clear right then and there. “I have never dealt with Anthony Zacchara in my life.” She said in all seriousness.

“Well you have now, Miss.” Cruz replied.

Okay Sam, she told herself, that's it. Shit just jumped to a whole new level. “Okay, this is the part where I get to talk to a court appointed attorney.”

Lucky had a feeling she'd say that. “You're not under arrest, Sam, which means you have no right to an attorney.”

Sam set her coffee down and stood as she spoke. She was through talking. “That also means I can walk out the fucking door.”

Sam approached the door to leave. Lucky walked right up beside her and pressed his hand over the door. “Sure. You go right ahead, but I'll tell you this, there's somebody on the other side that wants you dead.”

“I'm real scared. Do you see me shaking?” Sam crossed her arms with a look of defiance. She wasn't about to let that cop get the better of her, even if she was scared.

“I sure as hell do.” Lucky replied and Sam smiled derisively and shook her head.

“I've got a deal for you.” Lucky held up the faded image she'd told him was a ghost. “You tell me everything you know about this guy and I can make this all go away, put you under police protection.”

Sam wasn't completely sure before, but now she was pretty confident that cop was a fucking idiot. Police protection? Half the force was probably on Zacchara's payroll and obviously that Jason guy was tied to him in some nasty way. “You know what? I honestly don't know anything, but even if I did? I wouldn't give it to you.” Sam looked from him pointedly toward his hand on the door that prevented her exit.

Lucky shrugged and removed his hand. “Suit yourself.”

Sam began to open the door and paused. “Last chance to arrest me Detective Spencer.” Lucky remained silent. “I didn't think so.” Sam walked out of interrogation into the squad room.

Lucky and Cruz stood just outside the door and Sam stopped in the middle of the squad room to look at them. “Oh, by the way, tell whoever you're going to put on my tail that I'm going to lose them on 10th street.” She informed and then turned and walked out of the precinct.

Lucky looked at Cruz. “Put Barrett and Falconeri on her.”

“Why don't we just charge her, man?” Cruz was frustrated by his partners actions.

“She's bait. Time to put her on a hook and see what the sharks do.” Lucky knew that made him an ass, but so be it.

He was trying to figure his case out before Port Charles was subjected to any more senseless violence. They'd been lucky that time. No innocent bystanders had been killed in the crossfire, but who could say what would happen the next time Zacchara went after that man, or her? He knew they had enough to arrest her for the forged documents rap, but nailing Zacchara was more important and Mac had agreed to let Lucky handle Sam McCall however he saw fit once ballistics showed she hadn't killed anyone. She was a definite flight risk, considering her talents, but Lucky felt the reward was worth the risk so his boss let him roll with it. 

After all, Lucky's instincts had been the reason the department was able to take down Johnny Zacchara and a 23 million dollar shipment of narcotics as well as a high ranking member of a Russian crime syndicate. They had a good chance at a case against Anthony as well, but he wouldn't be in prison soon enough to stop the latest trouble. Besides, Lucky reasoned, Barrett and Falconeri were good cops. They'd keep an eye on her and keep her from any real harm.

-Waterfront-

Sam was no idiot. She knew she needed to get out of town fast. She just needed to find a place to lie low for a little while so she could cook a passport and then she'd make her way to the islands for a little vacation until things cooled down. The tricky part would be accessing her funds. She was sure the cops had probably frozen her accounts by now and even if they hadn't, she didn't trust they wouldn't be tracking any transactions. It didn't matter. No illegal funds ever touched her personal or corporate accounts. Those earnings went to her hidden off shore accounts. Now, she just needed to find a way to get to that cash and not get killed or arrested in the process.

She considered the risk of going back to her office, but there was a chance the cops hadn't found the package she'd stashed for just such emergencies. Even if they had, maybe they'd missed a blank passport. Maybe she could salvage enough equipment to get herself the hell out the current mess she was in. She'd lost the cops back on 10th Street as promised and decided to make a dash for her place, get what she could, and get back out.

Sam watched the building for a bit and didn't see anything suspicious. She entered through a back entrance and made her way up the back stairs quick and cautious. As she reached the third floor, she thought of going to Spinelli for help. A few months ago, he'd finally shown her his hidden talents. She'd always suspected there was a really brilliant guy underneath his goofy exterior and she was right. 

The kid was a genius with computers. There was no system he couldn't hack. It would be really easy to ask him and Sam was sure he'd be more than willing to help. He really liked her. He was a good kid and she really liked him too which is why she kept on walking up the stairs. She wasn't about to get Spin mixed up with the likes of Anthony Zacchara.

Sam got to the doorway of what had been her dark room. The door had been shot-gun blasted off its hinges. She tore the police tape from the frame and made her way inside, searching the dark room first. Finding nothing of real use, she cursed her luck then continued her search through all her hiding spots to no avail. Frustrated, she threw her jacket off and grabbed her leather bag then began opening drawers and hastily shoving enough clothes inside to last a couple days.

She rushed into her bathroom, really needing to wash away some of the grime from the long day and change into something a little more practical than the black slip dress she still wore. She turned on her faucet and filled her sink with water and shimmied out of the dress. She leaned over in front of the sink in her black bra and panties and thrust her head into the water.

When she rose up, she thought she'd heard a noise. Sam held her breath, listening intently. Her heart pounded in her ears making it hard to hear. She looked down through the open center doorways that showed all the way to her front office and found...

Nothing. 

She was just spooking herself. She dried her face with a towel and continued about her urgent pace to get what she needed and get the hell out.

Sam pulled on her Black Label 360 stretch black skinny jeans and grabbed a long sleeved button-up burgundy top, not bothering to button it as she moved. She grabbed her bag and jacket from where she'd left it. She slid one arm in her jacket and this time she definitely heard a noise. It sounded like broken glass crunching beneath someone's shoe. She turned and listened, her heart in her throat...

Nothing, not a single sound. 

She struggled to get her other arm in her jacket and opened the mirrored door of her wardrobe.

She found her spare tool set there and tossed it in the bag on top of the clothes then closed the door to her wardrobe and turned back to her chest of drawers to button her blouse and that's when it hit her. In the time it took her eyes to send the message to her brain; her ears had sent her another signal, another noise. She'd seen a man standing behind her in the mirror on the wardrobe as the door closed.

Sam looked down at her dresser and picked up the first thing she found to defend herself, a pair of cutting shears. She turned slowly, surprised to find no one directly behind her as she walked slowly and peered around the corner. “Ahh Geezus! What the hell are you doing here?”

Jason wasn't really sure of the answer to that, truth be told. He'd followed her from the police station. He knew he was crazy for going there and even crazier for deciding to help her break out of police custody, but he wasn't able to listen to his brain's reasoning. All he knew was that he couldn't just leave her there. Jason had battled with his brain for several long hours before ignoring what his head told him was the smart thing to do. Fortunately, as he arrived, he was pleasantly surprised to see her skipping down the front steps of the precinct. 

He knew the reason he'd told himself he needed to see her again, and that was what he told her now. “I still need papers.” 

Jason didn't mention anything more. He knew there was something more that pulled him to her, but he couldn't put it into words. He didn't understand it himself. He'd never felt anything that intense before.

Sam had bigger problems to worry about than the jerk in front of her. “Yeah, great. How do you expect me to cook a passport? With crayons and construction paper? I mean, take a look around you. Anything that didn't get shot full of holes, the cops confiscated. My $6,000.00 computer is now a paperweight and the cops took my laptop! And now four years of work are down the drain because you pick my door to walk through!”

He felt bad she got mixed up in his mess. “We'll go to Coleman.”

Sam continued about her search making her way to the front office and looking through the desk for anything to help her. She paused occasionally to give him dirty looks as she spoke.

“What for?” Why the hell would she go to the man who got her into this mess to begin with?

“For help,” Jason told her.

“You must be kidding. I'm not going anywhere with you. You're like a walking gah damn bulls-eye.” Sam checked the last possible hiding spot with no luck.

She'd found nothing of much use; some clothes, cash, and a tool kit. She made moves toward her front office door, ready to leave that mess and that asshole behind her.

Jason stood up from where he sat on the corner of her desk. “So are you. You're safer with me.”

Sam halted and turned to look at him. Who the hell...“Is it my perfume, or something? Because you're the second guy today to assume that I need, want, or will accept help. I won't.”

Sam pulled her bag tighter over her shoulder and headed for the door.

Jason pulled his gun, but didn't take aim. “It's not an option.”

Sam stopped in her tracks at the door, unimpressed with the male hero complex she repeatedly found herself up against. She was no victim. “And what happens when I tell you to go fuck yourself?”

Jason glared, his eyes piercing her resolve just a little, and without saying a word he released the safety on his gun.

Sam glared back, her jaw clenching, and her next words seething in quiet fury. “Okay, if that's the way you wanna play it. But when the gun is in my hand, we're gonna have this conversation again.”

-PCPD-

Lucky barely had a chance to feel good about his gut instinct being right when the call came in that Ms. McCall had indeed given Cooper and Dante the slip. Now, he was even more determined to ID this “ghost” as Sam described him.

He called over to tech in forensics. “Have you been able to enhance the ghosted picture you found on Ms. McCall's computer?”

As a matter of fact, they had and they were e-mailing the digital copy to him at that very moment. He motioned for Cruz, who came over to see when it came across. Lucky opened the attachment and gave it a good look. “What the hell?”

“You know this guy?” Cruz didn't recognize him.

“Yeah, this is Jason Morgan.” Lucky sighed.

“The Jason Morgan, Corinthos' enforcer?” Cruz only knew him by reputation. He'd been transferred from NYPD to PCPD after Jason had disappeared a few years back. Rumor was Sonny had taken him out, but there was some speculation as to whether it was true, or not.

“That's the one. He supposedly left the business five years ago. Nobody's seen him since, until now.” Lucky stared at the image on his monitor. What fresh hell had brought Jason Morgan back to Port Charles and why did Anthony Zacchara want him dead? As volatile as he knew the situation was now, considering the players, he was also a bit relieved to know it was Jason Morgan he was looking for. Maybe he could actually find him and convince him to put a stop to all of it before it got any worse.

-Ride to Jake's-

They were stopped at the longest light in history. He'd insisted they take Sam's ride since Zacchara's men were probably on the lookout for his SUV. He hadn't spoken a word since choosing vehicles and that was fine by her. She didn't want to speak to him either. Sam didn't like being kidnapped. However, she didn't like long periods of silence either. It always gave her insecurities a chance to creep up on her, so she preferred talking or music or anything other than silence.

“So, how'd you piss off Anthony Zacchara?” Sam ventured a look at him in her rear view. He'd insisted on sitting behind her for some reason.

That got his attention. She could see the question in his eyes though his face did little to reflect it. “Cops told me.” She explained.

Jason blinked and stared, finally clear-headed enough by her revelation to speak. He'd been rendered speechless since Sam McCall walked him to her ride. It was a fully restored 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 429 in his favorite colors, black on black with chrome. Only 93 Raven Black Boss 429 Mustangs were built in 1969, making the car almost as rare as the woman who owned it. It was conservatively rated at 375 horsepower from the factory for insurance purposes, but that machine was in 'race tune' condition producing almost twice that much power. She could easily sell it for more than a quarter of a million. When he realized it was hers he'd nearly asked her to marry him. Sam McCall in that car was a waking wet dream. She made him want to do things, say things he shouldn't so he'd kept quiet until now. “What did you say to them?”

Sam met his gaze and blinked long and hard, herself. She kept getting lost in those blue eyes. “I didn't say nothin. Pfft What, do you think I'm an idiot? I know you've got me mixed up in some Mafioso gangster bullshit.” Sam glanced down at her arm near her door handle as she distracted him in conversation. Jason saw her eye movement from the rear view. He knew she'd try and bolt which was why he'd insisted on sitting behind her.

“The less I know, the better.” She shrugged and made her move.

Sam opened her door to escape, but Jason jumped forward restraining her by her waist with one hand and slamming the door closed again with the other. There was a moment where everything stopped. Sam's shirt wasn't buttoned all the way, leaving her midriff bare where Jason held her.

He felt a charge of energy pulse through his body and into his groin from the contact of his hand against the soft skin of her belly. He was still leaning forward, his face touching the side of her head. She smelled like midnight jasmine, and heaven. He wanted to press his hand down beneath her jeans and know her intimately, feel her warmth and wetness. He wanted to run his fingers through her silken strands to reveal her naked neck and suck. His breathing deepened. He swallowed hard. He pulled her seat belt around her, clicking it into place, and tightened it. “Buckle up!” He told her and fell back into his seat.

Sam narrowed her eyes at him in her rear view mirror, allowing anger to replace the other emotions she didn't want to acknowledge. His hand had felt like fire on her skin, warming her in places she hadn't felt warmed that way in a very long time, if ever. She could feel his hot breath in her ear and on her neck. It gave her goosebumps. There was a moment he just lingered close to her with his arm around her, and she'd thought he might kiss her or move his hand to her breasts. The thought had made her heart pound and she hoped he hadn't heard it. She couldn't afford to let her body take charge. She needed to get the hell away from that man before he got her killed. She threw him another dirty look for good measure. He'd defeated her, for now.

The light finally changed to green and Sam punched the accelerator causing Jason's head to whip back then grinned wickedly as she made her way toward Jake's.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

-Jake's-

Sam parked around back to avoid being spotted, just in case. Jason kept a hand on her upper arm as they made their way inside. He didn't trust her not to try and run off again. She didn't like being manhandled, but she liked the way his strong touch excited her even less. He seemed not to notice how the back of his fingertips pressed into the side of her breast, but she did. She was entirely too aware of his body for her own good.

“So how is it you think Coleman can help?” Sam knew Coleman as well as she cared to. He lusted after her and she hated it. She didn't trust the man not to sell them out.

Jason kept them walking toward the back entrance as he spoke. “Coleman... hears things, sees things. He may know Zacchara's latest moves to help us stay ahead of him. He can get what you need to create those documents for me.”

“You trust him?” Sam didn't know Jason, but he seemed like a sharp guy so she was a little surprised.

Jason stopped as they reached the back door to Jake's and shot her a serious glare. “I trust he knows what I'll do to him if he crosses me.”

Sam caught the breath his eyes had stolen. From the look and tone, she thought his words might also be meant as a warning to her and Sam knew in that moment, more than any before, Jason Morgan was a dangerous man.

The back door was propped open allowing streams of remaining daylight to permeate the dark back room. Half of the space was taken up by a full commercial kitchen. A couple of stocked shelves lined the short hall from the back room through the kitchen to the bar in front while the remaining area served as office space with a well-worn sofa and television. The wall by the desk was covered with pictures of voluptuous playmates in various poses. Seemed the man had a thing for big-busted brunettes.

Sam gave Jason an “Are you serious” look as his eyes perused at will. Jason just shrugged as if men will be men and called out for Coleman.

Sam peeked out front. “Nobody out front.”

They remarked it seemed unusual the place was empty since it was well past time for the the happy hour crowd. They both took note of the cellar door open in the corner. The light was on. “Maybe Coleman closed up for a delivery.” Sam guessed.

She walked back towards Jason as he called out louder for Coleman. He didn't think Sam's explanation very likely. Something wasn't right. 

“Down here!” A muffled voice shouted back, but something still didn't feel right.

Jason drew his gun and proceeded down the stairs cautiously with Sam on his tail.

He cleared the stairs and saw no threat, but his gut churned and his jaw clenched when he saw Coleman. 

“Oh God.” Sam gasped.

Coleman had been tied to a chair and beaten to a pulp. His eyes were both swollen shut. His head drooped and blood ran from his broken nose and mouth to his shirt. Jason scanned the room again, just a bunch of stocked floor to ceiling shelves. He rushed over to feel for a pulse. 

“He's alive, but unconscious.” Jason looked down at Sam who stood next to him. She'd gripped his forearm as if to steady herself. 

Sam didn't handle the sight and smell of blood too well.

Before Jason could ask if she was alright, he heard a noise behind them and turned his gun toward the likely threat. Sam turned with him to find armed men holding guns on them. They must have hidden behind the shelves from where Trevor Lansing now emerged when they heard them enter.

“You two make a cute couple.” Trevor mused as Jason pointed his gun at him.

“You're welcome to try.” Trevor taunted.

Jason studied the three men with guns trained on them. He glanced at Sam. She looked ready and willing to follow his lead, but he knew they might shoot her dead before he could take out all three. He lowered his weapon. He'd wait for them to lower their guard before making a move.

Trevor head-motioned his men toward Jason. “Take his gun. Check them.”

Two of the men began roughly patting Sam and Jason down in search of weapons.

Trevor walked over to stand in Jason's face. “I beat my head against a wall trying to anticipate your next move.” 

“Actually,” Trevor chuckled, “I beat Coleman's head against a wall trying to anticipate your next move. Anthony will be pleased.”

Sam tried to talk her way out. “Okay, obviously this situation has nothing to do with me. So I'm just gonna walk out that door and pretend I never saw anything.” And the smart part of her would run and never look back, but another part told her she would actually head straight for the gun in her glove box and come back for Jason's ass.

Trevor smiled as he walked over to Sam. “I'm sorry, Sam, but you're in a little too deep. You picked the wrong partner.”

“Partner,” Sam huffed, “No, no wait. I'm his hostage. I just met this guy yesterday and he told me his name was Jason Morgan.” She said it as if that would prove everything. How could they be partners if he hadn't even trusted her with his real name?

Trevor leaned over as if to share a little secret. “His name is Jason Morgan, and you know what happens to hostages. They tend to get killed.”

Trevor turned to exit, leaving the messy work to the foot soldiers as he barked out final orders. “Cuff him!” He paused and looked back at Sam. “Cuff them both.”

Jason watched helplessly as one of the men grabbed Sam, throwing her to the floor. He had no doubt they intended to cuff them, beat them, and kill them. Jason breathed through his anger and waited for the moment to strike.

Sam recognized the man that shoved her to the floor. It was the guy with the Fu Manchu she'd shot in the leg earlier at her office so she kicked the hell out of his injured thigh as he cuffed her to one of the heavy shelves. Sam was never one to go down without a fight.

He backhanded her hard across the face and Jason flexed wanting to kill the son of a bitch, but the first henchman nudged his gun barrel against the back of Jason's head and a second man stood armed in front of him. The guy in front of Jason observed his reaction to Sam's treatment and threw him a jeering smile. 

Sam recovered from the backhand without batting an eye. “How's that leg?” She fired back, serving the guy with an evil grin that left no doubt in his mind she intentionally kicked him where she shot him.

The man glowered back at her and swiftly stomped the heel of his boot against her outstretched knee, causing Sam to scream in pain.

“How's yours?” He spat back.

The three men shared a laugh as Jason's entire body tensed. Barely able to contain the rage building for men that could take pleasure from hurting a woman, especially this woman. She was tough, but it was a cover for the vulnerability beneath. He'd seen a glimpse of it when his hand lingered on her bare waist in the car. And now that small glimpse made everything in him hum with a want, a need, to protect her from the likes of such garbage.

The gunman in front of Jason took the death wish in his eyes as a challenge. He stowed his gun in his waistband before punching him in the gut. Jason was winded, but maintained focus waiting and watching for his best chance to take them.

The guy in front tossed handcuffs to the man holding a gun at Jason's head. Jason felt the muzzle move from his head as the man reached to grab the cuffs in mid-air. His arms still held up, Jason swept around using them to deflect and disarm the man behind him. He used the man's gun to fire at the guy who punched him while holding the man he just disarmed as a shield.

The guy ducked behind shelves, firing wildly and taking out the disarmed man. Jason made it up the cellar stairs to the back room. He knew he was their main target. He predicted they'd leave Sam behind to pursue him since she was secured by cuffs and he was right. The two men ascended the stairs filling the room with gunfire as they entered. 

The back door was still open. They glanced around the empty back room and rushed for the door thinking their target fled. Jason watched through the small window on the opposite door that led to the front of the bar as they entered his line of fire. He swung it open and each man stood unflinching, shooting at their targets like a scene out of an old western.

Sam knew she had to get out of the cuffs or she was dead. She'd distracted the man before he could tighten them all the way and her hand could almost slip through. She saw the bottle of liquor syrup on the shelf by her hands and grabbed it. She hit it against the metal rod and it ran down her hands from the broken glass as she tried to coax them loose. The gunfire stopped, she noted. Someone was on the stairs. She pulled frantically at her hand to free it from the cuff. The gunman that killed Jason was on his way to finish her off. She knew it.

Jason rushed to Sam's side and her body breathed relief at the sight of him. He used the cuff key he pulled off one of the dead guys upstairs to release her and they quickly made their way out of the cellar. They needed to get out of there before the cops showed up. They were certain to be on the way with all the gunshots. They'd call 9.1.1 anonymously from a payphone to make sure Coleman got help.

They made a run for her car and were spotted by Trevor, still waiting by the limo for his gunman to finish. A fourth gunman began firing at them, busting out her rear windshield as they scrambled into her car and peeled out of the back lot. Trevor and his remaining goon jumped in his limo and took off after them, but it was no match for Sam's ride. 

She floored it, shifting angrily and skidding around traffic with the skill of an experienced wheel man as they barreled down the streets of Port Charles. He was wordlessly lost in her again. Who was this woman? Jason was white-knuckled and aroused all at once as her hands tightened on the wheel, fingers clutching the knob of the stick shift.

Her eyes peeled on the obstacles before her, venturing glances in her side and rear view as she laid distance between them and the threat that followed. The sirens dimmed in the background as Sam lost Trevor in her wake. Jason was relieved the cops were probably already on the scene, getting Coleman the medical attention he needed. He relaxed a bit as Sam slowed having successfully gotten away.

She looked angry and... in pain. He knew her knee was injured. He had to carry her up the stairs and help her limp to the car, but she'd insisted on driving. His heart gave pause at the thought she'd been hit by one of the bullets as they fled. “Are you alright?”

She cut her eyes at him, face full of fury. “Hell no I'm not alright. They shot up my fucking car!”

-Zacchara Mansion-

This was beginning to be a regular occurrence. Anthony was not pleased. “Another problem, Mr. Lansing?”

Trevor frowned, “Morgan was lucky. It won't last.”

“Don't confuse luck with skill. Morgan may be honorable, but he's ruthless. Where are his replacements?” Anthony was tired of lip service. He was ready for the deed to be done.

“They're arriving as we speak.” Trevor reported.

-Metro Court-

Sam pulled in to the underground parking before Jason had a chance to object. She parked in a secluded spot behind the elevators and once he'd gotten a good look at her he didn't have the heart to tell her they couldn't stay. She was doing her best to hide it, but she was in serious pain.

He needed to get her some place private to check out her leg, but first he had to avoid running into anyone that might recognize him. Namely, Carly, his oldest best friend and co-owner of the hotel they'd just parked at. Carly had suffered enough in one lifetime and he didn't want to cause her any more pain by getting her mixed up with his trouble. Jason told himself they would stick to the back exits, avoid the lobby and elevators. Hopefully, they wouldn't need to stay too long.

Jason didn't want to discuss his history with Port Charles, so he simply suggested Sam rent the room since Zacchara would likely flash his picture around. She carried a fake driver's license in her car, so they'd registered under one of her aliases and paid in cash. 

When he got her up to their room and saw the extent of her injury; he didn't know how she'd done it, any of it. Her right knee was dislocated and yet she'd managed to work the gas well enough for them to get away clean. Not only that, but she'd managed to make her way over to the front desk of the lobby to sign in while he made himself invisible. He'd dislocated a shoulder before and knew there was no way she could put the slightest weight on that leg without excruciating pain. His admiration for her steadily climbed.

Sam gritted her teeth as she sat on the edge of the bed. She didn't know how she was able to drive away. Adrenaline was the only answer, but it had worn off when the immediate threat was over. Her knee hurt like a bitch now, but she wouldn't show it. Showing pain or any real emotion would leave her vulnerable. And no matter how attracted to the practical stranger her body insisted she was she would never allow herself to be vulnerable again, to anyone.

Besides, she was still pissed, still his hostage. He'd almost gotten her killed twice now. Her home and her business was shot to hell and now, so was her car. Her blood boiled again with the image of her poor baby riddled with bullet holes and a shattered rear windshield. Three, she counted three holes in the rear right panel of her baby. That's how many she'd like to put in the man in front of her right now. She had to get away from him. He was nothing but a toe tag waiting to happen.

Jason helped remove her jeans to look at her knee and despite her contempt for him, Sam hadn't minded. She'd never been particularly shy about her body. Besides, being in her black panties was the same as wearing bikini bottoms she reasoned. However, now that his hands were on her bare leg she felt naked. She didn't like it, but he seemed to know what he was doing. And then some, her mind wandered. She shook her head. Focus, she told herself. If he fixed her so she could walk again, it would be that much easier to get the hell away from him.

Jason had spent the last five years chasing one failed lead after another and, in that time, he'd spent a good chunk of it in China where he took up the study of traditional Chinese medicine as well as martial arts. He also spent some of that time assisting a doctor at a clinic with Father Coates' missionary in South America. That training helped him determine it was a dislocated knee right away. He'd seen it before.

Her knee looked deformed. The usual straight line of the leg was crooked. It hadn't relocated on its own, so he would have to do it. He moved his hands over her foot, feeling for pulses. No numbness below the knee and strong pulses indicated no severe damage to the nerves or artery traveling through the knee to the foot. That was good, at least. He hoped there were no broken bones. He couldn't be sure without x-ray, but his physical exam indicated it was just a dislocation.

Jason knelt in front of her at the end of the bed to prepare the leg for relocation. He placed one hand gently under the knee for support while gripping her upper thigh between his fingers and thumb, running them down toward her knee to help align the femur. 

“It's going to hurt,” He warned.

“Just do it.” She didn't want to drag it out any longer.

He placed her knee in a bending position with one hand firmly on her femur just above the knee and, with his other hand positioned on the lower leg, quickly pulled and moved the fibula and tibia back into place as he straightened it.

Sam screamed as it slipped back into location and then proceeded to make full use of his distraction and her immediate reaction to want to punch him for the pain. He'd set his gun down next to her on the bed when he helped her remove her pants and she grabbed it as he turned his head to reach for the towel and bucket of ice.

Jason felt her sudden movement on the bed, heard the release of the safety on his gun and wanted to kick his own ass for being so careless with his weapon. He turned his head slowly to find himself looking down the barrel a few inches from his head.

“I told you we'd have this conversation again, you son of a bitch! What the hell did you get me into with Anthony Zacchara?” Sam held the gun steady at his head. She deserved a few answers before she made her escape.

“I'm his... consultant.” Jason finally answered.

“Consultant,” Sam pressed?

“I handle some of his more... taxing affairs.” Jason struggled to respond. He wasn't comfortable with anything about the situation. His own gun to his head, or discussing his sickening involvement with Zacchara.

“So what, did he hire you to file his fucking 941's?” Sam was tired of his cryptic responses. She wanted answers, real answers.

“I'm a problem solver. When negotiations fail, I end the debate.” Jason found it hard to look at her. He kept his head turned, not wanting to see the contempt in her eyes. He didn't know why her opinion mattered to him when nobody else's had in such a long time, but it did. It mattered what she thought of him.

“What a nice way of saying you kill people.” Sam poked the side of his head with the gun. He wouldn't look her in the eye. It was like he wasn't taking her serious.

Jason turned his icy glare on her when she tapped his temple with his gun.

“Did you think you could cross Anthony Zacchara? Did you think you could cross Anthony Zacchara?” Sam raged. She couldn't believe the nerve of the man. Nobody crossed Anthony Zacchara and lived, and now she was tied to his actions.

Jason glared at her, refusing to answer.

His silence was Sam's confirmation. “And now his foot soldiers are all out on the streets looking for you. And for me!”

“Put the gun down.” Jason ordered with patient authority.

“Now, would you let me walk out that door if I did?” Sam's arms were getting tired. She'd kept the gun trained inches from his face. She didn't want to shoot him, but she needed to get away.

He didn't answer.

“I didn't think so.” She adjusted her grip on the gun, never taking it off of him. “You aren't leaving me with a whole hell of a lot of options here, now are you?”

Jason stared her down. “Do it.” He whispered.

She hesitated.

“Do it.” He urged again.

Sam didn't move.

He grabbed the barrel in his left hand and pressed it to his forehead as she held it, “Shoot me! Do it! Go on! Do it right now!” He shouted at her. He had no fear of dying, but somehow he knew she wouldn't pull the trigger.

“I'll do it for you!” He screamed, moving his right hand over hers on the trigger. His heart pounded; rage blinded, and the judgment, hatred, in her eyes reflected his own self loathing for the terrible things he'd done and hadn't done, the things he'd failed to do. His fragile grasp of control snapped.

He used her hesitation and shock with his leverage. Having both his hands on the gun, he pushed it away from his head then upward twisting it out of her hands and into his as he forced her back on the bed.

Jason's feet were planted on the floor with his upper body supported by his hand, pressing into the mattress as he hovered above her. Both breathed heavily from the exertion of the struggle and the intensity of the moment when he shoved the muzzle of the gun into her neck. He'd wanted to protect her, and she'd just threatened to kill him! 

She laid there motionless, wordless, staring at him, and at his mercy. Those eyes, those beautiful chocolate eyes. He didn't want to see hatred or fear there. He wanted, he wanted to see acceptance, trust, and more. He wanted her to look at him with emotions he hadn't earned and knew he didn't deserve.

As the heat of the moment passed, his control returned. He engaged the safety of his 9mm and pulled back off of her in one swift movement and retreated to a chair at the table by the bed.

Sam laid there for a moment, still and staring at the ceiling, fighting every emotion that flooded her now. She forced herself to only feel the anger; anger at being in a position where her life was in danger, anger at the man who'd just held a gun to her throat, anger at the way her body and heart betrayed her as she stared into those tortured blue eyes. 

She pushed herself up on the bed, the pain in her knee and heart adding fuel to her anger. He'd made her feel helpless, weak. Sam didn't know if she was more angry with him for calling her bluff, or herself for not being able to save herself.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered from the chair.

It was too much. She couldn't hold back the tears after that, and that only incited more rage toward him having made her feel so exposed. Sam saw him remove the clip from his gun and reached back for the first thing she found to throw at him. She reared back with all her might, yelling out as she hurled a glass vase his way. He simply raised the butt of the gun up to deflect the flying object and it shattered on contact; shattered like his life, like her hope. She flinched as the shards fell between them.

“Tell me what the hell is going on!” Sam cursed and there was a long silence before he finally answered.

“My last job left me with formidable skills; talents men like Anthony Zacchara find highly valuable. A few weeks ago he tracked me down, offered me a position with his organization. I wasn't interested. I'd walked away from that life. I was done. When I politely declined his offer, Anthony used my mother and sister to persuade me to perform jobs for him. The first two were lowlifes. It wasn't difficult.” Jason's hands rested over his knees as he spoke.

“And the third?” Sam questioned, fighting her tears. She was sad for him and mad at him all at once. It was like something in her soul recognized something in his, that helplessness perhaps, or guilt, or maybe it was the longing for a peace that had been denied too long. She hated how it made her feel, like she could get lost in him if she let her guard down. The feelings were powerful and she didn't know why. Jason Morgan was nothing to her.

“The third was to be my old employer, but when Anthony's son was killed the target changed. I couldn't do it.” Jason admitted as he slapped the clip back in his gun, removing and replacing it out of some subconscious stress relief habit.

“If I don't get back to Columbia my family will die.” He didn't want to see her anger, but he couldn't look away from her as he confessed.

“You picked a very bad day to grow such a selective conscience.” Sam hurled her words at Jason like the vase, shattering a piece of him he didn't even know still existed, his heart.

She grabbed her pants off the bed and hobbled to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

He placed his gun on the table and pulled a worn photo from his wallet. He held an old photograph of a red-headed little boy in his hands and whispered. “The day chose me.”

xxxxx

Sam showered and, not having many other options, put on her jeans again. She tried not to think about the man outside her door, but found herself able to do little else. She waded in the warm memory of his hands on her leg. He'd asked her to flex her foot up and down, to turn it to the inside and out. When he asked if she could feel his touch as he moved his hands along her calf and foot, her body screamed to tell him. "Yes, she felt it all the way to her core!" How could someone so hard touch so soft? Sam didn't want to think of him that way, in any way. She needed to keep her senses until she could get away.

She finally opened the bathroom door to allow the steam to subside and stood before the bathroom mirror, brushing her hair as he spoke on the phone behind her. She was distracted from his conversation when she noticed the deep red mark on her neck from where he'd jammed the gun into her. Sam tossed her hair back into place, anger renewed, but softened by other emotions she was still too scared to name.

She threw her things back in her bag and limped back into the room.

“You should really stay off that leg. I'm certain you must have torn a few ligaments. It should be immobilized. You'll also need to see an orthopedist and have an x-ray as soon as possible to ensure there aren't any fractures.” Jason told her and wished he could do more for her.

“You sound like a doctor.” Sam found herself smiling at his concern.

Jason chuckled.

“Did I say something funny?” Sam was puzzled by his reaction.

Jason sighed, his slight smile fading. “No, not funny. Ironic, but nothing about it is really funny.”

Sam's face softened a bit with her heart. She wondered what that meant. His voice sounded so... sad. So much of the man was a mystery and she hated the fact that she found herself wanting to solve it. 

“So, what was all that about?” She asked motioning to the phone and resisting the urge to follow up with other questions that might make her feel anything more for him beyond the anger.

“I spoke with Father Coates. He offered for me to use his passport. Fix it for me then you can go.” Jason had wanted to keep her close, to protect her. But he was beginning to believe the best way to do that may be to let her go. 

Sam remained silent, considering his words.

“My family is running out of time.” He stated simply, and she felt a piece of the wall around her heart crumble as he spoke those words with unmistakable sincerity.

“I'll need a few things.” Sam relented. “Come on, there's someone I know that can help. He owes me a few favors.” Sam wouldn't be able to live with herself if his mother and sister were killed because she was too stubborn or afraid to help.

-Zacchara Mansion-

Trevor showed the two men to the study to meet their client. “This time it's two jobs.” He relayed to them as they walked.

Anthony stood looking out of his study's French doors, deep in contemplation. He turned to the sound of Trevor's voice. “Anthony, I believe you're familiar with Mr. Craig and Senor Ruiz?”

“Mr. Zacchara, a pleasure doing business with you.” The blonde man said with a distinct, but indiscernible accent. Anthony thought he detected a tinge of Australian, but there was very little to be found on Mr. Craig's background check. It didn't matter. His work spoke for itself. Mr. Craig hadn't failed a mission yet.

“The pleasure will be all mine, I assure you.” Anthony tipped his head in appreciation.

“Senor Ruiz, I'm glad you could make it.” Anthony welcomed.

“A chance to rid the world of one more coward? I wouldn't miss it and, please, feel free to call me Manny.” He grinned.

“As Trevor mentioned, this time there will be two jobs. First, to finish what Morgan wouldn't. Second, to finish Morgan.” Anthony informed and the four men smiled wickedly over the bloodshed to come before finding their seats to discuss further details.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

-Stolen Car-

Sam sipped her soda as she drove down the rainy streets of Port Charles. “So, I'm just curious. What made you assume I could jack a car?” 

Jason wiped his face clean from the remains of the greasy to-go burger they'd snagged for lunch. “Lucky guess,” He shrugged. “Your mother or your father?” He asked glancing toward her. He wondered how she'd picked up the knowledge.

Sam hesitated as tension mounted against the tiny bit of ease they'd managed to find between them over lunch. She put her drink down and everything about her got... still. He was just about to tell her he was sorry to pry when she spoke. “Old boyfriend. It was one of the few useful things he ever taught me, but Nico's lessons always came with a really high price.”

Sam was quiet again. She wasn't venturing glances at him anymore, and something about the way she'd said those words about a high price told him that Nico guy had hurt her. He didn't even know the story, but just seeing her that way made him want to find the bastard and make him suffer for any pain he'd caused her.

Sam wasn't sure why she shared that bit of her past with the blue-eyed stranger beside her. She'd never spoken of Nico, not since the trial, not since she learned he was a murdering car thief and had helped send him to prison. 

Still, as much as the man next to her was a stranger, something about him made her feel like she'd known him forever. She hadn't of course, but there were moments when they just seemed to connect on a deeper level than Sam ever felt with anyone before. Her body wanted him and her mind demanded she run as fast as she could from him. Her heart, though, her heart wanted to believe in him. She feared being letdown yet again with almost everything in her, but something in her gut told her to trust him. Told her, he was worth the risk. 

And one thing Samantha McCall had learned over the years was even when she couldn't trust her mind, body, or her heart she could always trust her gut. Her instincts were the only thing that had kept her alive all so far. True Jason Morgan was responsible for the danger he'd brought into her life, but he'd also stuck around to keep her safe. He'd stayed when he could have run to save himself and that had to count for something. It did count for something, a whole hell of a lot. 

Some how as dangerous as he was, as crazy as it was, he made her feel safe, fiercely protected in a way she'd never known and that feeling was as strong and foreign to her as all the others he made her feel so she pushed them down. She wasn't able to deal with all of that now, but she was curious to know more about him and, despite wishing she wasn't, she couldn't help wondering what it was that had made Jason Morgan the man she saw today.

“So, speaking of useful skills, who taught you to shoot? Your mother or your father?” Sam seriously doubted it was either, but thought the suggestion might lighten the suddenly tense mood.

Jason couldn't help a slight chuckle at the image of Alan or Monica taking him out for target practice. Actually, picturing Monica at the range wasn't such a stretch. His mother was a pistol, no pun intended. He smiled at Sam and she smiled back. 

His smile made her heart flutter and she found herself struck with a powerful urge to spend the rest of her days finding ways to keep it there. She didn't know a whole hell of a lot about him, but she could tell Jason Morgan was not the kind of man who smiled very often about very much. She felt a little empowered, privileged even, that she was someone that could put that smile on his face.

Then his smile faded as he remembered his mother and father. His father was dead, taken by a sudden heart attack during a hostage crisis three years ago in which the thief responsible was still at large. Alan died before Jason had been able to make it right. He hadn't even been able to attend the funeral due to a lead he had to follow before it grew cold and now, now his mother was in danger. He'd be damned if Monica or Emily were taken from him before he made it right with them.

Jason shook the thoughts away. He focused on her question. “Sonny Corinthos,” He stated, knowing anyone having lived in Port Charles long wouldn't need further introduction to the name. “After the accident, Sonny was one of the first people to accept me as I was without pushing for more. He put a gun in my hand and trusted me with his life. The rest was instinct and a natural talent for the job, I guess.” 

He stared out of his window as the raindrops melted down the glass. Unwilling to allow unwanted memories to haunt him, he reminded himself they would need to ditch their ride by the end of the day before it was reported stolen.

“Accident?” Sam inquired.

Jason sighed. “Right before I started college, my family got into it and my brother was angry and tried to leave the house drunk. I didn't want him driving, didn't want him to get hurt.” Jason exhaled sharply at the irony. “I jumped in the car, but he drove us into a tree before I could stop him. AJ walked away, but I suffered head trauma that required surgery. When I woke up, I couldn't remember anything from my life before. Doctors explained the brain damage I'd sustained made it impossible for me to ever recover any memories, but my family couldn't help trying to get back the son and grandson they'd lost. Before the accident, I had planned, was supposed to be a doctor like my mom and dad. I couldn't take the disappointment in their eyes every time I failed to be the person they needed. So, I walked away. I started over. Sonny helped. The job gave me purpose and a place to focus all the anger. I wasn't expected to feel anything which was good since the brain damage messed up my ability to process emotions properly anyway. Sonny was like a father, brother, and friend all in one. Family. We made a good team, until it ended.”

Jason grew silent again. Sam wasn't sure what to say, so she allowed the silence to settle over them as she considered what he'd just shared with her. There had been so many times she'd prayed to forget her life before. Forget all of the loss and pain, but listening to him speak made her suddenly a bit thankful that wish never came true. Horrible as they may be, her memories helped shape who she was now. Who would she be without them? How lost and alone Jason must have felt waking up from that accident. The prospect seemed even more frightening than the nightmares of her memories.

She wasn't sure how much further she should push, but another question gnawed at her and she couldn't help but ask. “So, if you were family, if you were so close, what happened? Why can't you go to Sonny for help now?”

“I failed to do my job, failed my family, again. And just like before there was nothing I could do to make it right by staying, so I walked away. I'd be surprised if Sonny wasn't out for blood once he learned I was working for his enemy.” Jason wasn't sure if Sonny would actually be able to kill him, but it was a confrontation he'd rather avoid. 

Jason knew regardless of whether Sonny wanted him dead, or offered help, he would demand an explanation and Jason had lost too much already. He just couldn't trust Monica and Emily's safety to anyone, but himself. Sonny had always been ruled by his emotion and since he hadn't spoken to him in five years, Jason wasn't sure what emotion to expect.

He only trusted Father Coates, because Monica and Emily would already be dead if he hadn't acted quickly. Father Coates had confirmed on his call earlier he was able to have his contacts move his mother and sister to a secure location. Jason insisted he not give the location over the phone. He planned to meet the priest in person later.

Sam sensed Jason wasn't in the mood to talk anymore. They were quiet the rest of the drive. 

-The Docks-

Sam parked on a side street not far from Kelly's diner and began walking. Jason wiped the car of their prints and followed swiftly behind. He hoped he didn't run into anyone from his past. They continued along the docks until Jason got a sinking suspicion he knew where Sam was headed. He was about to stop her, but she'd walked a little too far ahead and he didn't want to shout for risk of drawing attention. Jason increased his gait a little to catch up as he watched a scene unfold before him.

A young man, he couldn't be described as a gentleman considering his actions, held a man's arm pressed behind his back. Jason recognized a shake-down when he saw one. The guy being roughed up looked to be a middle-aged, middle-income guy who probably sported one hell of a gambling addiction. He must owe money to the younger man, or whomever he worked for. Jason remained cool.

As Sam approached the boat ahead, the darkly featured young man spotted her and released the older man from his hold. He scampered off back in the direction of Kelly's as the kid turned his attention to Sam. Jason was still a little further away from her than he would have liked. He didn't like the looks of the kid.

“Sam, damn, you look good!” The teen with black eyes and hair called out as he walked up to meet her.

“Not today, Diego.” Sam rolled her eyes attempting to side-step him.

Diego grabbed her arm, pulling her back around. He leaned in to her ear to flirt. “What's with the attitude? You just need to spend a little time with me. My love is guaranteed to put a smile on your face.”

Sam sighed with impatience. Diego Alcazar was a creep. The trust fund his father left him allowed him to live a good life, yet he chose to be a thug and a creepy thug at that. Sam smirked as she watched Jason walk up silently behind him. “Diego, meet my new friend.” Sam motioned her head toward Jason.

Jason glared down at the kid, his jaw set, and frosty eyes narrowed. Everything about his frozen posture dared that delinquent to challenge him. Jason didn't appreciate the way he invaded Sam's personal space. It was evident he lacked respect for himself or anyone else. It was a flaw Jason was sure would lead to big trouble for him one day and Jason didn't want himself or Sam anywhere around when that day caught up to the little prick.

Diego took a half step back, almost tripping over himself as he stood face to face with Jason Morgan. He knew who he was from studying his father's business. “What's up friend? We're all good hear, right?” Diego smiled between them as he backed away, allowing them to pass.

Jason said nothing. He simply glared harder. Sam smiled and shook her head at Jason's ability to intimidate with a single look as they continued up the gangway. Jason didn't want to board the boat, but he didn't want to discuss his reasons with Diego still loitering nearby. He very reluctantly followed Sam on board and prayed it wasn't a mistake that would cost him dearly.

Both were too busy with the challenge in front of them to notice the trouble brewing behind. When Diego first came to town, everyone suspected Sonny Corinthos had ordered Lorenzo's hit. Diego had memorized Jason Morgan's face as the man responsible for taking his father from him. He'd sworn to kill the man the first chance he got, but Jason Morgan had left town before Diego arrived and Diego hadn't been able to track him down. By the time he did, Diego had discovered who really ordered the hit on his father.

Diego pulled his cell phone from his pocket to make a call. This little piece of information would go a long way to proving his loyalty. One day, Zacchara would trust him enough and that would be the day he would kill Anthony Zacchara. Diego would take everything from him as Anthony had done to his father, Lorenzo.

-The Haunted Star-

“Boyfriend?” Jason mused nodding back toward where they'd left Diego.

“I try to stick to my own species.” Sam wasn't amused. “Alright, so the owner here owes me a few favors. Hopefully, the equipment he was procuring as payment arrived.”

Jason nodded, breathed deep, and followed silently as they entered the casino floor. The place wasn't packed, but seemed to be having a fairly decent night as they made their way through the crowd toward the bar.

Luke nearly choked to death on his single-malt as his eyes made contact with the trouble headed his way. He'd heard about Sam's place being shot to hell and half expected her to show up at some point, but Jason Morgan was another story entirely, a whole higher level of trouble he didn't need. 

Luke held no ill will for the man, but he knew plenty of players on both sides of the line that did and he hoped to hell none of those men showed up there on his boat. Luke decided to handle their visit quickly and move them along before their trouble became his trouble.

He stepped from behind the bar to greet them. “Sammy baby,” Luke grinned as they stopped in front of him. “Figured I might be seeing you. Sorry to hear about your trouble. Guess you're here to collect, huh?”

“You figured right.” Sam looked back toward Jason preparing to introduce him, but Luke cut her off.

“Jason,” Luke nodded in welcome. “Long time. How have you been?” Luke's smile held apprehensively awaiting his response. Now that Luke got a closer look at the younger man, he could see clearly his life had worn better on him the last several years than whatever hell Jason had been living. And Luke had suffered at least three near deaths, a marriage to Tracy Quartermaine, the death of his dear Leslie Lu, and having to watch his beloved daughter's only child be raised by the family responsible for her death.

“Better,” Jason replied. He'd been better. Luke was one of Sonny's oldest friends, so he wasn't really sure what kind of welcome to expect. Jason also knew Luke stayed pretty well-informed. He wasn't sure how much he might know about Jason's real reason for being in Port Charles.

“Still letting your actions do the talking for you, I see.” He smiled a bit brighter at the younger man.

“And I see you're still letting your scotch do the talking for you.” Jason returned with a smirk-smile.

Luke's laughter belted out as he gave Jason a hearty pat on his shoulder. “Welcome home, man! Welcome home.” Whatever trouble he might be in, not much appeared to have changed. Jason Morgan still dressed the same, still carried himself the same and Luke had a good feeling he could still trust him the same too. Jason relaxed a little, if Luke knew anything about his business there, he didn't show it. Of course, Luke was a con-man by trade so Jason didn't relax by much.

“I didn't know you two knew each other.” Sam had watched the two men with interest.

“Jason and I? Old friend in common.” Luke explained without further detail.

“Oh! Right.” Sam mentally slapped her forehead. “You're old friends with Sonny Corinthos. You must have known Jason when he worked for him.” 

Of course Jason would know Luke. Hell, Jason probably knew half of Port Charles. Why hadn't he said anything when he saw where they were headed? She didn't like it. Sam wanted to know all about him. If she could figure him out, she would know if it was safe to feel the things her heart and body wanted her to feel and that bothered her because she didn't want to feel anything for him.

“Why don't we take this conversation to my office?” They nodded in agreement and Luke turned to lead the way.

He offered them a drink from his private stock as he poured his own. Sam accepted a double neat for her pain. Her knee was still swollen and sore. She sat in one of the guest chairs as Luke made his way to sit behind his desk. Jason stood at Sam's side with the wall to his back where he could keep an eye on Luke and the door at the same time. Yep, same old Jason. It was both a good and sad thing to see. 

Good, because from what he'd heard of Jason's dealings lately he was going to need to be sharper than ever. Sad, because for all the good Jason's survival skills did him it didn't appear Jason had much of a life worth living. He had to wonder what had kept Jason going the last five years. It was obvious something had, but it was also obvious it wasn't anything that gave him happiness.

“So, Luke,” Sam began, drawing his attention from Sonny's former enforcer. “Please tell me you have my equipment?”

“Unpacked, charged, and ready. It's in back with the precious cargo. Care to give me a hand bringing it in darlin' ?” Luke noticed Jason stiffen at the suggestion Sam leave his side.

Sam felt Jason's non-verbal protest as well. She looked up at him and her face softened to find what looked like concern. “It's alright. I'll be good and I trust Luke.” Luke smiled, raised his drink, and tipped his head to her. “With this anyway,” She added and Sam had to grin at Luke's attempt to appear offended he was anything less than 100% trustworthy in all matters.

Jason didn't like it. He felt like they were past her trying to run, but he wanted to be by her side in case anything went down. Jason followed Sam and Luke back out to the casino floor and waited near the bar while they headed to the liquor hold in the back. There was only one way to get to Sam from where he stood, and that was through him. He watched as more people arrived looking to lose hard-earned cash to the house. Jason took in all the faces and kept watch for anything suspicious.

Fifteen minutes later Sam and Luke reappeared with several black bags. The place was getting pretty busy now and with Jason's focus drawn to Sam, he missed the bald Latino male that had entered and spotted them heading back into Luke's office.

“Listen, feel free to make yourself at home long enough to get what you need done. I've gotta get back out there and check on business. Looks like things are starting to heat up. Good luck.” Luke glanced between the two and knew they were gonna need all the luck they could get. Sam had filled Luke in on everything she knew and he in turn had given her a bit of advice about the man that now seemed particularly concerned with her well-being.

“Thanks Luke, for everything.” Sam smiled, but Jason noticed other emotions swirled in those bourbon eyes. Sadness, apprehension, worry...

“You two take care.” Luke closed the door to his office and left Jason and Sam to their task.

Sam made quick work of setting up a portable backdrop, light reflector to enhance available light, and a tripod to hold her brand new digital SLR camera with mounted flash. She directed Jason to stand in front of the backdrop then proceeded to snap several shots. She then pulled the memory card from the camera and slipped it into her new laptop. 

Sam busied herself with downloading the backup copies of her photo-editing software as well as another customized program she needed. She was thankful Spinelli had insisted she back everything up to an off-site server. No one had any knowledge of that server and there was no way they could track her activity thanks to the genius of one Damien Spinelli.

While Luke played the consummate charmer back out on the casino floor, the bald thirty-something Latino male sat at the end of the bar pretending to enjoy his drink. Manny Ruiz had been flown to Port Charles for two reasons, to kill Jason Morgan and then finish the hit Morgan failed to complete. 

He didn't really care for the conditions laid on him. Zacchara insisted he work with a partner, Mr. Craig, which didn't sit well with either of them. Manny worked alone, but Zacchara made the issue a deal-breaker. He felt the differences between Manny and Mr. Craig's styles would compliment one another and speed up results.

Mr. Craig and Manny had come to an altered arrangement after receiving the tip on their target's location nearly a half hour ago. Manny would go in close-up and Mr. Craig would hold back for the sniper shot if by some small chance Manny failed to take out his target. 

Manny laughed at the fool. Craig was sitting his ass out in the van waiting for a shot that would never come. Manny was strapped with his 9s and once Morgan and that hot little package popped their heads up and turned their back, he was going to take them out. He had a perfect shot and plenty of ammo should anyone decide to play hero. It was only a shame he wouldn't have a chance to taste that sweetness first. Such a waste.

Sam attached the new printer to her laptop and loaded the proper weighted paper while she waited the last couple minutes for the downloaded programs to install. Jason hadn't spoken since she'd retrieved the equipment with Luke and she hadn't either. Luke's words were still running through her head. Luke insisted whatever else Jason Morgan might be, he was a man of his word. He never broke a promise. So, if she needed to know if she could trust him all she had to do was ask him to promise she could.

Sam thought about the information she shared with Luke and hoped it wasn't a betrayal. Jason worried her when he mentioned not only Zacchara, but Corinthos might be gunning for him. She couldn't do anything about Zacchara, but Luke's connection to Sonny gave her a small in. She didn't know much, but she knew Jason Morgan hadn't willingly decided to join forces with Zacchara and she told Luke as much. 

Sam told Luke how Zacchara was holding the lives of Jason's mother and sister over his head to force him to perform three hits. She explained Jason wasn't able to go through with the third job and now Zacchara wanted him dead and his family was in danger. She hadn't seen Luke that visibly shaken since the death of his daughter. 

Luke explained he was married to Jason's aunt and knew Jason's mother and sister both very well. Sam still couldn't believe Jason Morgan was born Jason Quartermaine. Sam didn't really know them as much as she knew of them. Everyone in Port Charles knew of the Corinthos, Cassadine, and Quartermaine families. 

Sam was grateful to have a few more pieces of the Jason Morgan puzzle, but she was having a hard time fitting the pieces together. She needed more and a good place to start was to learn why he hadn't gone through with what started the trouble they were in now. “You know, you could have saved yourself a lot of trouble just by doing that third job.” Sam stated softly as she edited his photo to prepare for printing.

Jason sat at the desk beside her, but never took his eyes off the office door in front of them. “It was wrong. Anthony Zacchara was out for blood. He wanted the man who killed his son to pay.”

“Detective Spencer?” The shooting was all over the news. “Jeezus you're getting yourself killed for a cop?” Sam knew he was Luke's son, but this was his life and family at stake.

Jason swallowed. “Not a cop, his son.”

“What?” Sam turned to face him now. She couldn't have heard him right.

“Cameron was the target, a seven year old boy.” Jason sighed.

“Why?” She couldn't understand how anyone could harm an innocent child.

“That's how Anthony Zacchara deals with his enemies, through their families.” Jason hated himself for what he'd done. He'd had his finger on the trigger, knew what that boy looked like through the end of his sniper rifle's scope. He'd fought with himself to find strength to kill a child, a child he had known and even held as a baby. It didn't matter to him that he hadn't been able to go through with it, the fact that he'd been close was enough to earn his place in Hell all over again.

He hadn't wanted her to know, but when she asked was unable to lie. The idea of a lie between them felt worse than being judged by the truth. He didn't miss that she was now unable to make eye contact with him, or even glance in his direction.

Sam thought she might be sick. A child? He'd been forced to kill a child or allow his mother and sister to be murdered? Part of her struggled with how he could even consider taking the job, but a bigger part recognized he hadn't gone through with it at the sake of his own life and family. He sacrificed three lives for that child.

Luke stepped back in the office just as the last of the photographs printed. “How's it going?”

“All done, thanks. Would you mind storing my things a bit longer?” Sam wasn't sure if she'd make it out of it all alive, but she definitely couldn't risk lugging everything around with her. She pocketed the photos.

“No problem. You guys go ahead. I'll take care of all this.” Luke began cleaning up.

“Thanks Luke.” Jason looked him straight in the eye.

“You're welcome. Keep this one safe, will ya? It's not easy finding good print shop photographers these days.” Luke gave Sam a wink.

Jason nodded once. “You have my word.”

Sam's breath caught at his reply. Thanks to Luke, she knew the true depth of those words. She looked into Jason's eyes and knew, knew he'd give his life to protect her.

They walked out of Luke's office together. Jason turned from closing the door behind him and noticed something off about the man at the end of the bar. He was interested in them, but tried to act as if he wasn't. Jason smiled casually, grabbing Sam by her shoulders and turned her around. He pulled her against him as if pulling her in for an impromptu kiss. He smiled into her eyes all the while watching the man at the bar from his peripheral. He leaned in as if about to kiss her then nuzzled her neck.

Sam wasn't sure what to think, but was too surprised and too turned on to push him away. His strong hands turned her to him by her shoulders then found her hips to pull her soft body flush against his and her legs went weak. His eyes were dark with desire as he smiled down at her and her pulse raced. His lips were a breath away from hers and then suddenly those lips brushed against her neck and all she wanted was to feel his mouth on her, kissing her and sucking at her neck. Her hands clenched the back of his t-shirt for support. He nuzzled his cheek against hers before resting his mouth against the lobe of her ear and whispered. “Don't turn around.”

Sam stiffened at the urgency in his whisper. “Cops?”

“No, assassin.” Jason answered.

Before Jason could make another move, Manny realized he'd been made and pulled two glock 9s from under his suit jacket. He began unloading both clips at his now moving targets. Jason pushed Sam through the crowd of screaming gamblers toward the exit. He pulled his own gun and returned suppression fire, forcing the hired killer to duck behind the bar. The breaking glass, and people screaming and shoving barely registered with Sam as she hung to Jason's side. Her adrenaline pumping, she wished she had her own gun so she could help save her own ass.

They bolted from the boat to the dock and, as they jumped down, the floating gangway shifted and Jason felt a bullet whiz past his head. “Sniper! Get down!” 

He shoved Sam forward as they took cover by a small storage shed housing life jackets and a fire extinguisher. Two more shots and Jason determined the sniper fire originated from a black van parked in the adjacent lot. Jason tried to make moves before the man behind them caught up and they were trapped, but it was too late.

They were now taking fire from both sides. The only way out was in the path of the sniper. Just as Jason was about to risk the shot, he heard another gunman join the fray. He looked back up on deck of the Haunted Star. It was Luke. He threw down cover fire by engaging the gunman that had been at the bar.

It was now, or never. Jason stood and took three rapid shots busting out the sniper's window then grabbed Sam's hand and ran for it. They left the stolen car behind. They would keep moving and double back to the hotel once they were sure nobody was on their tail.

The gunmen retreated as the sirens approached and Luke made his way back inside to try and calm the terrified patrons. Fortunately, no one had been hit in the crossfire. He surveyed the damage. The place was a mess, but his heart sank upon finding the top shelf behind the bar destroyed. That was where his $18,000.00 bottle of The Macallan 57 year old single malt whisky had been. 

Luke rushed to its side finding it had been mercilessly taken out, the Lalique crystal decanter's life blood spilled on the floor. Only 400 bottles were ever made. Luke wanted to cry. He wanted to make someone pay. Jason Morgan just might be in over his head this time and Luke knew, it was time to call in the cavalry.


	6. Chapter 6

6.

-Spencer Residence-

“I got it mom!” Cameron jumped down from the chair he was standing in against the kitchen counter and ran to answer the phone.

Elizabeth smiled at her only child as she mixed the ground beef, bread crumbs, eggs, and seasonings with her hands. It killed her that complications during his birth prevented any future pregnancy. He was the only baby she would ever have, but he was growing up so fast. It seemed like yesterday she and Lucky watched him take his first steps. Now, he was a second grader with a quickly growing aversion to her affection. Lucky insisted it was just his independence shining through, but she hated to see her baby grow up.

“Spencer Residence. Hi daddy.” Cam turned to his mom. “It's okay mom. It's daddy.” He wasn't supposed to talk with strangers.

Cameron turned back to continue his phone call. “She can't. She's got meat loaf goop all over her hands daddy. Uh-huh, and brownies.” Cameron confirmed their dinner menu for the night. “You didn't forget about tonight did you, dad? Just me and you! Joey from class said it's the best movie ever!” Cameron laughed as Lucky proceeded to remind him Joey seemed to say that about every movie. “Right after dinner? Okay, bye. Love you too, daddy. Okay, I'll tell her.”

Cameron hung up the phone and climbed back up on his chair by his mother. “Daddy says he loves you and he'll be home in time for dinner so we can catch the six thirty showing at the theatre downtown.”

Elizabeth leaned over and kissed Cam on the cheek as she wiped her hands on her apron. “Thank you, baby.”

Cameron wiped her kiss away with an angry little face. “Mom, I told you I'm not a baby anymore!” He hopped back down. He didn't feel like helping her with dinner anymore.

-Zacchara Mansion-

Trevor Lansing sat in the security room of the Zacchara estate having overheard the entire phone conversation between the cop and his son from the listening device their man planted the previous night. He now had a time and place for the hit to provide to Craig and Manny.

One of the guards was confused. “Why don't we just go in and kill him right now while the kid and his mother are at home unprotected?”

Trevor paused on the way out. “Killing the boy isn't good enough. Anthony specifically wants the cop's son to be shot dead in his daddy's arms.”

Little JJ stayed very still, holding his hand over his mouth so as not to make a sound. He loved playing in the security room. The concave area on the backside of the desk was like a pirate cave. He could barely wedge himself in and out of the space, but once inside there was lots of room. The guards let him play and would even sneak cookies for him. Sometimes, he played so long and so quietly they forgot he was there until his Auntie Claudia realized he'd run away from his nanny again and came looking for him. Today was like that.

Even though his aunt would be mad he disobeyed her by playing in that part of the house again, JJ wished his Auntie Claud would come find him now. He was scared. He didn't understand it all, but he thought Mr. Trevor and the nice guard said his grandfather wanted them to kill that little boy on the phone. He needed to find his Auntie Claudia and tell her. She would know how to help that little boy. Cameron, his daddy, the cop, had called him Cameron on the phone. The guard had given him lots of cookies today, so he would just play sick and they'd send him off to his Auntie right away.

-The Park-

Jason and Sam escaped on foot after the attack at the Haunted Star. They ran from the docks, down past the Elm Street Pier past Kelly's diner and hoped to lose anyone that might be following them as they took off through the park. Jason hadn't been in that park since the ceremony. He pushed the memory away. 

He didn't want to think about it, any of it. But suddenly it was there as the path they were on brought them to it. Jason's legs stopped working, refused to carry him another step and almost denied him the ability to hold himself up. His thighs and knees went weak and he couldn't breathe, or blink, or swallow. He simply froze. He was frozen to the spot that stood as a memorial to the first and last person he'd ever promised everything to. That spot was the physical embodiment of his failure to keep his promise, the most important promise he'd ever made to the only person that ever really mattered.

Sam wasn't sure what the hell was happening. One minute they were being shot at down on the docks. Jason had taken charge and even placed his own body between her and the gunfire. He'd tugged her along at a pace her small body could barely keep up with and now, all of a sudden, he stopped. Not just stopped running, he'd stopped everything. She wasn't even sure he was breathing.

It was like he was in some trance. She wasn't really sure why he was suddenly so interested in the swings, but he hadn't taken his eyes off them even as she called his name. She figured there must be some significant memory there for him, but with professional assassins gunning for them, it wasn't the time for a stroll down memory lane. After several more failed attempts to verbally capture his attention, she finally jerked his arm pulling him back to the present and they were running again.

Jason clutched Sam's hand tighter in his and ran. He just wanted to keep running with her until they were safe, until she was safe. He couldn't fail again. They continued top speed until they came upon the path to the cemetery. They entered to take refuge within the tall brick fence that surrounded it. It would be easier to spot someone on their tail. 

They sat for a moment on a cement bench under a giant Willow tree to catch their breath. The mature branches swept the soft grass, providing a bit of cover as they watched for lingering threats.

She wasn't sure she should ask, wasn't sure he would answer. But she wanted to know. “So, what was that back there? At the playground, why'd you stop?”

Jason hadn't even realized he still held her hand in his even though they weren't running anymore. He began absently caressing the back of her thumb as he thought of how to respond.

Sam looked down at their intertwined fingers as his thumb gently stroked the back of hers then circled around against her palm before traveling back over her thumb. She wasn't even sure he was aware of it, but the repetitive motion seemed to calm the storm in his eyes as he sat next to her. She didn't mind. Actually, she liked it. His touch calmed her too, so gentle yet so strong.

Jason choked back the emotion rising in his throat as he looked out over the grave markers. “I spent a lot of time at those swings in the park, in another life.”

Sam didn't understand what that meant fully, but she could tell it hurt like hell for him to even admit that much to her. She placed her hand on his back and began to rub slowly up and down, her touch soothing both of them the same as his touch had. Sam didn't press for any more clarity. She knew he was hurting and she knew she wanted to do anything to make it stop, but she also knew now really wasn't the time. They needed to keep moving.

“We should meet Father Coates now. We're right next to his church and the sooner you can fix his passport for me the better.” Jason managed to pull himself out of his tortured thoughts to concentrate on keeping them safe and alive. “I also need to warn him. He should go until things settle. I don't want anyone else's life at risk, because of me.”

Sam gave his hand a squeeze. “I know I was hard on you about getting me mixed up in this, but the truth is my life was in danger long before you came into it. It isn't like I live the safe life of a suburban housewife.”

Sam moved her other hand to place over their joined hands. “Besides, you're the reason I'm still alive.”

Jason felt her small hand rest gently over his and finally turned to look at her for the first time since they sat down. He sank into her deep bourbon eyes and felt his soul warm to them just as the drink warmed on a cold winter's night. And that's what it felt like. The last five years Jason had lived in the coldest of winter and now, as she held his hand firmly in both of hers, his heart began to thaw from the warmth of compassion in her gaze. “I meant what I said to Luke. I won't let anything happen to you.”

Sam felt the saltwater building as she drowned in an ocean of blue. There were trained killers targeting her and yet she didn't doubt for a second she would make it out of this alive and well as she stared into his eyes. She suddenly felt she could survive anything life threw at her with this man by her side, holding her hand.

“I believe you.” Sam swallowed back the tears before they fell. “Now, come on. Let's go check on Father Coates.”

-Queen of Angels-

Jason and Sam walked hand in hand into the church. He was glad Sam continued holding his hand. It just felt right holding on to her. The physical confirmation of her by his side was comforting. He wondered if she might feel the same way, but reminded himself she was probably just still frightened from almost dying thanks to him.

As they entered the front vestibule, Jason's eyes immediately rested on a crumpled form of robes near the altar. He knew instinctively what it was, or rather, who it was, but his head just couldn't wrap around what he was seeing. “No. No! NO!” Jason wailed as he ran and knelt beside the fallen priest's body.

Father Coates lie on the floor of the church, his white robes donned in preparation for the evening Mass now generously spotted with his blood. His body had been broken and beaten worse than Coleman's. Jason gently removed the garrote from the priest's throat to check for a pulse.

Father Coates was still alive. He struggled to open his eyes as Jason called to him. Sam walked closer. She stood nearby, tears streaming freely as her hand covered her mouth to prevent the sobs of horror assaulting her. How could anyone harm this kind man? He'd been one of the first in town to reach out to her when she arrived. Sam had met him at Lulu's funeral. 

Father Coates found her after the service. He'd witnessed how upsetting the memorial was for her and offered her an ear if she ever wanted. It was several months later before she finally took him up on his offer. It was a particularly rough anniversary for her and the priest had been so patient. He'd allowed her to take her time to tell her story and, afterward, his words had been so healing. Nothing trite or empty like she'd expected. 

Coleman, the owner of Jake's bar, and Mike Corbin, the manager of her favorite local diner, were the first to make Sam's acquaintance in Port Charles the day she arrived. But Luke was the first she called friend. Not long after her fast friendship formed with Luke, his daughter died. Sam had only met her a few times, but Lulu had been in her last months of pregnancy and seemed blissfully happy with her husband, Johnny.

The official cause of Lulu's death was ruled accidental, of course, but Luke always insisted it was the work of Anthony Zacchara. Lulu's death devastated Luke and as much as Sam believed Luke a smart man, she knew from experience grief often clouded judgment. Sam hadn't been able to comprehend even the cruelest mobster capable of killing their own grandson's mother the day after she gave birth. Now, knowing what Anthony had done to Jason and seeing first hand what he'd done to this gentle man, Sam knew Luke had been right.

“I moved your family to Cartagena.” The priest struggled. “But I told Zacchara's men they'll be in Buenaventura.” He choked out.

Jason shut his eyes tight forcing tears to prick the sides. This was his fault. He brought this danger into Father Coates life. He opened his eyes to look at the man who'd done so much for him, for his family and so many others. “How long do I have?”

As connected as the priest was to Columbia due to his extensive charity, Jason knew he'd only bought himself a little more time. Monica and Emily wouldn't truly be safe until Jason was with them. Zacchara was relentless. He'd spend any amount of money, hire as many men as it took to find Jason's mother and sister to serve his revenge.

Father Coates swallowed. “Zacchara will find them by tomorrow night.” He reached up to his right chest and patted weakly. “Passport.”

Jason searched under his robes to his inside shirt pocket and pulled out Father Coates passport that he'd offered to let him use. Sam would alter the document with Jason's photo. It was his ticket into Columbia. “We need to get you to the hospital!” Jason moved to lift him into his arms.

“Father, we'll need to use your car.” Sam hoped he hadn't walked today as he was prone to do.

“Keys... pants.” He was beginning to lose consciousness.

Sam reached into his pant pocket and pulled out his keys as Jason held the battered priest in his arms. They rushed to the back entrance where Sam knew his car would be parked.

-General Hospital-

“Somebody help! We need a doctor! Hurry!” Jason yelled as he ran into the ambulance entrance of the emergency department. He knew security and the silly receptionist at the front emergency entrance would only slow him down, so Jason pulled the priest's Volvo station wagon right up into one of the covered ambulance bays.

A tall, muscularly lean man with dark hair and eyes rushed over to them in scrubs and a white coat. Sam was momentarily thrown as she recognized him. It was the attractive jerk she'd met at Jake's and gone home with nearly two years ago. She hoped he was as good of a doctor as braggart because if Father Coates died she didn't want to even think of what it would do to her, or Jason, or all of the hundreds of other people his life enriched.

A male nurse brought a stretcher over and they settled the priest onto it.

“What the hell happened?” The doctor demanded of Jason.

“He was attacked. We found him like this in the church.” Sam spoke when Jason was unable. 

“Alright, you two stay put. I'm sure the cops are going to want a statement.” The doctor issued them with a stern look. “Nadine, let's get him to trauma 1.” The doctor directed to the nurse, spouting off orders as they moved.

Sam watched them wheel him away and said a silent prayer. She couldn't help make momentary note that the prick doctor hadn't even recognized her. Just as well, she thought. She didn't care at all, it was just a small bruise to her ego. She turned back to look at Jason. He still hadn't said anything since shouting for help.

He looked as broken as Father Coates body. From the look on his face he was moments away from either falling apart or flying into a sudden rage. She carefully placed her hand on his upper arm peering up at him, her soft gaze offering him safe harbor from the raging sea of blue she looked into.

Once again, Jason felt her touch and was pulled back from the depths of his torment. He pulled her to him, needing to feel her near. He wrapped his arms around her, thankful when he felt her lean into his embrace and slip her arms around his waist. Resting her head against his pounding heart, her hands hugged tightly against his back and Jason reveled in the peace he'd known her body pressed against his would deliver.

Jason knew they should leave, get the hell out of there before the cops arrived or someone recognized him. But he just needed that moment with her, with Sam in his arms. He nuzzled his mouth and cheek against the top of her head. She fit perfectly in his arms like he was made to hold her and before he knew what he was doing, his lips pressed a kiss to the top of her head as he held her close.

Sam pulled back slowly, lost in those magnificent blue eyes once more. She caught her breath at the intensity of his gaze and as his lips lowered toward hers, her heart jumped. She wanted this, so much, wanted his arms around her, his lips on hers. She wanted to taste him. His mouth opened slightly as his lips brushed against hers and she shivered with an overwhelming need for their tongues and bodies to melt into one. She angled her head slightly and opened her mouth for him.

“Jason? Oh my God! Jason, is it really you?” A shocked female voice called out behind him.

Jason paused. He pulled back from Sam's lips and Sam stifled the groan of disappointment that threatened to escape. Jason sighed and Sam could tell the interruption frustrated him as well and it made her smile inside to know he wanted to kiss her just as much. He turned and was shocked to see the woman he'd once planned a life with staring back at him. “Robin, what are you doing here? I thought you were in Africa.” Jason couldn't believe she was standing there. He hadn't seen her since Lila's memorial service. He only knew she'd been in Africa because of Emily. Robin and Emily had worked together during a tour of Doctors Without Borders and had become close friends.

“That was two years ago, Jason. You might know more if you'd kept in touch.” Her words reprimanded, but her smile welcomed him home.

Robin walked up to him and gave him a big hug. “Oh, it's so good to see you. I've missed you. How have you been?”

Sam stood quietly at Jason's side wondering how they knew each other.

Jason didn't know where to start with Robin's question. He hated to lie, so he stood there at a loss for words. Robin looked over to the petite beauty at his side. They'd been in a pretty tight embrace when Robin walked up. She must be important to him. “I'm sorry. Hi, I'm Dr. Robin Scorpio-Drake, an old girlfriend, but I'd like to think we're still friends after everything. I see Jason's still as talkative as ever.” She held out her hand.

“Sam McCall, nice to meet you.” Sam extended hers with a smile. “He's afraid if he talks everyone will find out what a softy he is.” Sam teased, venturing a glance at Jason as she spoke.

Robin smiled. She liked this Sam McCall. First of all she accepted Robin, who'd just admitted she was Jason's ex, without a single hesitation. That reaction told Robin two things. First, Sam was open-minded enough not to rush to judgment and secondly, Sam was gracious and self-confident enough not to show any animosity toward her as many women in Port Charles so readily did in such situations. Sam was open-minded, gracious, self-confident, and better yet she liked the way Sam wasn't afraid to tease Jason. It was just a split-second first impression, but Robin only hoped the impression she'd made on Sam had been as good.

“Drake? You're, you got married?” Jason was surprised again and curious.

Robin turned to face both of them, but spoke to Jason. “For almost a year now. Can you believe it? And that's not all, Patrick and I have a baby girl, Emma. Oh my gosh, Jason, I can't wait for you to meet her. She's going to love you. You were always so good with... I'm sorry.”

Robin wanted to kick herself for running off at the mouth. He'd just made it home for the first time in five years and there she was already reminding him of why he'd left.

“It's okay. Wow. Married and a baby. Congratulations.” Jason was happy for his friend. She looked good, really good. Happy.

“Thanks.” Robin's smile crept back slowly.

“I'm sorry, did you say you were married to Dr. Patrick Drake?” That couldn't be right, Sam thought.

Robin's attention focused back on Sam and her smile brightened at the mention of her incredible husband. “Yes, that's right. Do you know him?”

Sam paled. “Nu-uh, nope!” At least, not in any way you'd care to hear about anyway. Sam couldn't believe that player was now a married man with a baby. Not only that, but he'd ended up with a beautiful doctor who seemed incredibly nice. What could she possibly see in that jerk? Then again, Sam reconsidered, Robin just admitted she dated Jason too. On first impression a lot of people might think Jason to be a jerk as well, but Sam knew better now. Maybe she'd rushed to judgment with Patrick, too.

Robin looked confused by Sam's obvious recognition of her husband followed by a swift denial of ever meeting him. Jason was pretty sure Sam was lying and could only think of one reason that might be. He quickly stepped in before Robin put it together as well. “I'd love to meet Emma, but we really need to get going. We just came to see Father Coates gets help.”

“Father Coates? What happened?” Robin's face scrunched in a mixture of confusion and concern.

“We found him nearly unconscious in the church. He was severely beaten.” Sam explained softly.

“Oh my... Who would do such a thing? First Coleman, now Father Coates.” Robin looked between the two of them then settled onto Jason.

“You treated Coleman? How is he?” They weren't friends or anything, but Sam had felt extremely guilty leaving him. She hadn't really had a choice. Jason had to carry her up the stairs with her dislocated knee and then they were chased off by bullets, but still.

“He's going to make a full recovery, but it'll take a while for all of his injuries to heal.” Robin informed them.

Robin looked at Jason. She could still read him, after all these years. “Jason, are you in trouble? How can I help?”

Jason's jaw clenched as emotion filled his eyes. “You can make sure Father Coates has the best care possible. I'll cover any costs.”

Robin looked at him impatiently. “That's very nice. I'd expect nothing less from you and, of course, we'll take exceptional care of Father Coates, but I was talking about you. What can I do to help you?”

There was no way in hell Jason was going to get anyone else involved in his mess. He gave her a little smile. “You can make sure to go home safe and sound to your daughter every night and never forget her safety and happiness is all that really matters.”

Robin's face softened to him. She knew whatever was going on, it was dangerous and Jason wasn't about to let her help. She hugged him again. “I'll cover for you with Uncle Mac. Just go and please be careful. I want you around long enough to meet Emma's children, and grandchildren!”

Jason smirk-smiled and Sam thought her heart would melt into her stomach. It was sexy and cute all at the same time and she suddenly felt a little possessive. She wanted that sexy smirk-smile to be hers and hers alone.

Robin turned to Sam. “Stay safe Sam. It was really nice meeting you and I'd love the chance to get to know you better.”

“Thanks Dr. Scorpio-Dra..,” Sam was interrupted. “Robin, please, call me Robin. Any friend of Jason's..” Robin smiled as the sentenced trailed.

“Robin, thank you and if we have anything to say about it I'm sure we'll be seeing you again, safe and sound.” Sam assured her and prayed like hell she was right. 

-Metro Court-

They drove Father Coates' car back to the hotel. Sam left the key with the front desk and left instructions for them to call the church to let them know where it could be picked up. If they needed another ride, they'd take one. Jason didn't want to take another single thing from Father Coates. He'd already given far too much.

They made their way into the room, careful not to draw attention as they stuck to back stairs and halls. Neither had spoken at all really since leaving Robin at the hospital. Both were still reeling from the course of events over the last twenty-four hours. She could feel Jason withdrawing into himself, but she didn't know what to say to him to make him stay with her.

Instead, Sam did the one thing she knew how. She sat to work at altering the priest's passport for Jason. She pulled her salvaged tool set from her bag, set the magnifying glass up in a make-shift prop between pages of a book and began carefully edging away at Father Coates' photograph with the passport sized photos she'd taken of Jason at the Haunted Star earlier set beside her on the table. A question occurred to her as she worked. “How do you figure getting to the airport in one piece with those two professional killers after you?”

Jason sat on the opposite side of the bed facing away from her. He didn't turn to answer.

“They won't be. They'll focus on their next task now before they miss their chance at that too. They're here to finish my job. Spencer's boy must die in his arms then he'll share Anthony's pain.” Hate and sarcasm for Anthony Zacchara's brand of justice dripped thick from his voice.

Sam continued working as she spoke. “Spencer's son for your family, that's a hell of a choice.”

Jason nodded absently, stuck in some far off place in another life. “People die. Children die.” His voice was hollow and distant.

Sam never looked up, but nodded solemnly. She knew all too well. “People die. Children die.” She agreed. “The same thing happens to your family if you don't get there first.”

 

Jason didn't speak and neither faced each other. He stared off blankly and she busied herself to her task. “When I was a kid,” Sam began, “my mom was kind of a weakling. She could never make her own money and so after my dad split we always had a lot of boyfriends in and out of the house. The one that stuck was Joe. He used to beat on her and when I would stand up for her, he'd belt me in the mouth. So, I learned to shut up. Then I hit fourteen and I was passing for 21 in all the local bars and, um, good old Joe started getting real friendly with me. So that was it. I was outta there clean. Only I, um, left a ten year old brother behind. Danny...” Sam's voice became thick with emotion as she continued. 

Jason turned to look at her, but she kept working. “I, I, I thought he would be okay, you know, because he was a boy and um, I didn't think Joe would touch him. And um, then one night Joe just put Danny's head through the kitchen wall...” Her voice trailed off quietly as she choked on her sorrow. “People die. Children die.”

Her story stabbed his heart. She knew his pain, lived his pain. His mind's eye flashed from a smiling and spirited little red-head boy to his memory of the last photo he'd ever seen of Michael and then finally to his vision of Cameron through his sniper's scope. He swallowed it all down. He had to bury his emotion, or he'd be burying his mother and sister instead. 

Sam wiped her eyes. She'd finished her work. She rose from the table and chair and walked it over to him and set next to him on the bed. “I've spent whole days thinking about that one thing, that one good deed that's going to wipe out all the crap that I've done. You ever feel like that?” Sam paused.

“So you didn't want to shoot a kid, welcome to the human race, but standing aside is no different from pulling the trigger, Jason.” She handed him the finished passport. “Now that is some of my best work. Have a nice trip.” Sam stood and brushed her hand across his shoulder as she walked to the bathroom closing the door behind her.

She couldn't tell him what to do. She only hoped he already knew what needed to be done. They had to save that little boy. Jason held the passport in his hands, his ticket to ensuring his mother and sister lived but at what cost? He knew his mother and sister would never be able to live with themselves if they knew the price their future breaths had drawn. Sam was right. He'd already known what needed to be done as soon as he realized Zacchara had brought in replacements. He had to save that little boy, no matter the cost. He sighed and went to knock on the bathroom door.

Sam peeked out at him and he simply replied. “I'll need guns.”


	7. Chapter 7

7.

 

-The Lair-

Sam silently observed Jason from the corner of her eye as she drove and wondered if he was having second thoughts. He sat quietly in the passenger seat of yet another car she'd hot-wired, an older blue Honda this time, about a block away from their hotel. Jason had made his decision to save Cameron and, after he'd told her he needed guns, Sam hadn't wasted a moment. Every second counted against the little boy now that replacement killers were hunting him. Sam knew exactly where to find the guns they needed and she couldn't wait to kill two birds with one bullet.

Jason sat lost in thought, each memory of Monica and Emily's loving faces another agonizing rip of his heart. Every minute his trip was delayed further ensured the probability of his mother and sister's death. His remaining connections in Port Charles were depleted and his best ally, Sonny, wasn't an option. He just might want to kill Jason now as much as Zacchara. 

He'd told Sam he needed guns back in the hotel room, not expecting her to have an answer, but certainly not surprised when she did. Jason quickly learned Sam McCall was strong, brave, capable, and quick on her feet. Qualities he admired in anyone, but when mixed with her beauty, passion and intelligence they engendered something much stronger than admiration. 

This was a woman he considered an equal and he wanted her, wanted her in every sense of the word. He wanted her as a lover, friend, and someone he could share a future with, if they made it out alive. No, when they made it out alive. It was crazy to think she could want him too after the danger he'd put her in, crazy he could feel so much for someone he'd just met. 

He needed to focus on what was real, not some fantasy life with the beautiful bad ass Sam McCall by his side. Jason's gut clenched as he recognized the area. They were now in a more perilous neighborhood than the Waterfront District, at least it had been five years ago. From the looks of things, it hadn't changed for the better.

“So, where are we headed?” He knew it used to be called the Asian Quarter, but wasn't sure that was either politically or ethnically correct anymore. They seemed to pass by as many Latino markets as Asian.

“The Lair, it's kind of an underground hangout for thugs and lowlifes.” Sam explained as she made a left followed by a quick right.

She parked the car and cut off the lights. They were there, apparently. Sam double-checked the clip of her gun. She'd grabbed it from the glove-box of her car back at the Metro-Court before they left. Jason had no issue with her carrying now since she joined him voluntarily. Besides, he'd already proven her incapable of killing him. 

The recollection made her want to shoot him all over again. No matter how much her body craved him, or how she found herself sort of almost maybe liking him it still pissed her off that he'd made her feel weak. Sam was unable to look in his killer blue eyes and pull the trigger, even though her life may have very well depended on it. Hesitation like that could get her dead dealing with the questionable characters she dealt with on a daily basis. 

She should have shot first and asked questions later, but something in his eyes spoke to her. It was some kind of connection she felt to him on a level beyond any words she knew to describe it, as if her soul cried out in warning that to end his life would leave her world in darkness. Her mind told her she was a fool to allow her body's desire to sway her, but her heart hadn't wanted to take the chance that her soul was right. And after learning more about him from Luke and things Jason shared, her heart was beginning to fall in line with what her gut told her, that she could trust him. Sam felt her heart slowly opening to the possibility of falling for Jason Morgan and it scared the hell out of her. 

Jason checked his clip as well. Slamming them back in place in succession, they exited the car concealing their weapons in the back waistband of their jeans. Jason fell into Sam's lead. She knew this place, knew these players. He'd let her run the show and simply provide backup as needed.

They walked purposefully down a dark alley that ended at an eight foot high privacy fence. Sam flashed some kind of silent hand signal between a young Latino male that stood at the gate. He yelled something in Spanish and Jason recognized part of it as... free to pass. He'd picked up a bit of conversational Spanish during his time at the clinic in Columbia.

The gate opened from the other side and Sam and Jason passed through. Jason had to do a double-take as he took in his surroundings. Tall buildings engulfed a fairly large hidden courtyard on all four sides. He was sure it had to be a well-guarded secret from the PCPD and Corinthos organization considering the flagrant show of arms and illegal drugs exhibited there. Jason shook his head. Drugs in Port Charles? 

No way that place would be allowed to exist if he was still with Sonny. He wondered just how bad things actually were for Sonny now. It spoke negatively on his power hold over the city whether he was aware of the place and did nothing, or had no idea it existed. All traces of the park-like setting the courtyard must have been at one time had been trampled out by the criminal element currently taking up residence.

Tricked out cars littered the courtyard with music booming somewhere not too far off. Jason spotted another entrance on the left of the courtyard. The gate was larger. He figured that must be how the cars got in. He remained silent, taking in every detail. Enforcer, or not, he'd be back to see the place returned to the children and families inhabiting the apartments surrounding it. The thugs could leave the easy, or hard way, but they would be leaving and he didn't really care which way.

His total focus was back on Sam in an instant as he sensed her stride quicken. She advanced across the courtyard in a running walk toward an elevated concrete porch extending the length of the building at the rear of the courtyard. She must have found her connection. From what Jason could tell, most were concentrated on that porch playing street corner craps for cash.

Sam saw the traitor from across the courtyard. The sight of him rolling dice, playing games without a care in the world after what he'd done, infuriated her. He'd been the one to tip off Zacchara at the Haunted Star. Sam was sure of it and she was about to make him pay.

Sam's hands hit the floor of the raised porch allowing her to hop onto it in one fluid motion. She stood swiftly, approaching without hesitation. Diego Alcazar squatted over the dice with his back to her. She spotted his piece stuffed in the back waistband and pulled it on him before anyone knew what the hell was happening.

Diego rose and turned angrily to see who'd lifted his .45. “What the fuck?”

Sam clocked him with a hard right to his jaw that knocked him on his ass and the music was temporarily drowned out by the sound of gun safety's being released and chambers loading. About fifteen guns were instantly trained on her and Jason who'd drawn his 9 as well. She aimed the gun steady at Diego's head.

Young Alcazar looked up at her from the concrete floor in smug disbelief. “You picked the wrong place for that shit.”

“Oh yeah, well why don't we take it to the jury? See if they'll stand up for a rat?” Sam shook with anger, almost wanting the piece of slime to push her one bit further.

She knew she had him. They might be his “people” right now, but her reputation carried weight with them and once she told them how he'd ratted her out, Diego would be done. He knew it too. Diego knew the one thing that wasn't tolerated on the street was a punk ass rat.

All was silent except the music thumping in the background somewhere. Jason's eyes narrowed to icy daggers, slicing through the crowd with his stone-cold glare and weapon trained. He peeled over each face holding a gun on them, searching for the threats he'd need to take out first should it escalate.

Fifteen guns, he counted. His eyes roamed. Three delinquents reminding him of a thuggish version of the Three Stooges with Larry's frizzy curls in the middle, a fairly beautiful Latina with angry eyes... Hell, all of them had deadly intentions. He wasn't sure how far Sam was willing to take it, but he'd have her back til the very end. They'd have to move fast for cover if they had any chance at all. He hoped Sam knew what the hell she was doing.

It was the large black, possibly part Latino, male Jason had assessed as the biggest threat who spoke first. “What's the story, Diego? Should I unload on'em?”

Diego replied, a little winded. “No. No, no. It's all good. I've got it all under control.”

Sam's amber eyes were nearly black with daring fury. “That's good. Now get up. Get up!”

Diego gave the word and his people eased off. He led Sam and Jason to his vehicle to discuss the business at hand in a more private setting. Sam kept Diego's gun trained on him from a more relaxed position at her waist as he walked ahead. Jason had her back.

They headed toward the right end of the courtyard with Diego waving people off as the unusual scene caused alarm. They stopped in front of an open gate Jason assumed at first was another entrance to the courtyard, but realized it was more of a covered garage for some of the thug's vehicles. A muscled up Latino male stood guard with an assault rifle in one hand and the leather leash of a hostile Rottweiler in the other. Again, Diego waved off the attention, vouching Jason and Sam were “his people.”

They'd barely passed the gate before Diego started pleading his case. “I know what you're thinking, but it's not even like that. Zacchara's got you two marked by every thug in this town. Now, if I'd been seen with you and I didn't make that call? Hell, I'd be causing myself unnecessary drama.”

It was a lie, Diego had called in hopes of getting in good with Anthony, but it was believable enough not to catch a bullet. He hoped.

Sam rolled her eyes at the bullshit sob story being fed to her as they walked, her lack of concern duly noted in her sarcasm. “We wouldn't want that now, would we?”

They moved further into the wide covered corridor between two buildings that formed the right flank of the lair. Jason followed closely behind, counting targets as they sank further into that hell hole. Two at the front, seven to ten scattered around the courtyard, fifteen on the porch, another at the second gate, plus seven more he'd counted after they passed the man with the dog. 

If things went sideways, they were screwed. Jason didn't know if he wanted to admire or admonish the ballsy recklessness of the petite woman. She stormed up into that snake pit against thirty armed men and women with balls big enough for the both of them. She may be small, but her bite was just as vicious as her bark and he couldn't help like it.

They halted in front of a black SUV. Jason noted it was also the source of the audibly offensive music assaulting the serenity of night.

“Alright, break out the munitions.” Sam knew Diego always carried a small arsenal. His father had been one of the most well-connected international gun smugglers that ever lived. Diego remained in the family trade, even though the business had been taken over by Zacchara years ago.

Shit. Sam was here to take his guns? No way! “That 4 five is all I've got.”

Sam looked doubtful. Such a terrible liar. “You sure about that?”

Jason leaned back against the hood of the SUV, his gun still drawn while keeping one eye on targets and the other on Sam. Sam squatted by the driver's side rear wheel well. She hit it with her hand and nothing and then ran her hand up along the inside, feeling around until she found it. Sam stood facing Diego, two guns in hand now. His SIG-P220 two-toned SAO SIGLITE .45ACP was grasped in one hand and the new-found 10mm Colt Delta Elite Chrome handgun in the other.

Sam's patience wore thin as Diego continued to lie his ass off with a smile. “I forgot about that one. You know what? You can have that one. That's on me.”

Sam pushed the barrel of the Colt into the front of her jeans and kept the .45 in hand. “Give us your keys.”

“What? No no no. Now, you're trippin'!” No way was he going to just give up his ride and his guns.

Sam's jaw clenched. She didn't have time to deal with that asshole. “Do you stand by your product, Diego?”

Diego smirked. “You going to bust a cap in me right here?” 

He ventured a glance back at Jason who glared, making no moves from his slightly casual stance against the SUV, obviously unwilling to talk her down.

Sam racked the slide of the .45 and aimed it at Diego's chest, unfaltering. He could see from the look in her eyes now wasn't a good time to push her. He sighed and held out his key-chain. Jason walked by and snatched the keys from him, intent to search the vehicle for more weapons. He rounded to the trunk, lifted the glass, and lowered the tailgate.

Sam grimaced at the deafening music. “Damn, could get that a little louder, Diego?”

“I told you there isn't anything in there. You've got both of my guns.” Diego would stick to his story to the end.

Jason searched the custom-fitted cargo area containing an amp, woofers, and other customized equipment. He spotted a fitted box with speakers that weren't thumping like the others. It was a nice conceal, he'd give the little punk that much. Jason felt around, hitting it to release the hidden compartment. A large case was stored inside. He pulled it out and opened it revealing a small arsenal, indeed.

There were four Glock 18 fully automatic 9mm handguns, two with extended magazines and Israeli shoulder stocks, the other two with 100 round capacity beta C-Mags. There were also two more .45's and another 10mm Colt, plus thousands of rounds of ammo and extra clips. Sam had come through, again. He gave her a small smile, closed the case and slammed the tailgate closed.

Jason headed for the driver's seat and Sam made moves for the passenger side. She grinned back at Diego with a wink. “Thanks for the ride.”

Diego wanted to fight it, but knew there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He wanted to hate Sam McCall, but she was too damn bad-ass and it was sexy as hell. He sucked it up knowing he'd earned the payback and should just be thankful she hadn't shot him for her trouble. Diego walked up to the driver's door and tapped on the glass. He did have one last question. The tinted glass lowered. “How am I supposed to get home?”

Sam leaned forward from the passenger seat. “Blue Honda out front. Just twist the red wire and the yellow wire together.” She leaned back and Jason raised the glass leaving Diego shaking his head and pissed with his situation. 

Jason tensed as they approached the exit, but Sam issued another hand signal. The armed man opened the larger gate for them without issue, delivering them back onto the seedy streets of Port Charles' most dangerous part of town.

-Diego's Ride-

Jason now had two choices. He could waste time they didn't have driving back to Little Italy for the time and place the old man would have provided his replacements, or he could call on local help to locate Lucky and Cam in order to get to them first. The decision was easy. 

“Sam, I need you to call Luke. Tell him whatever you have to in order to get him to track Lucky and Cameron down.” He glanced over at Sam to see her already dialing.

Minutes later, Jason was barreling downtown toward the Port Charles Grand Theatre. Lucky called Luke earlier to check on him when the call went out over the radio about the shooting at the Haunted Star. Luke insisted everyone was fine and Lucky not break his plans with Cameron to check on him. 

So when Sam called, Luke knew exactly where to find them, but he wasn't about to just give up that info without some of his own. Like, why they hell she and Jason Morgan needed to know? After the gunfire they'd brought down on him earlier, he didn't want them anywhere near his family. 

Sam carefully explained they had good reason to believe those hired guns' next target was little Cam as Zacchara's payback for Johnny. It was a sucker-punch in the gut for Luke. He gasped for air then promptly told Sam exactly where they were. Luke insisted he was on his way as well, but Sam and Jason were closer. She just prayed they made it in time.

-Port Charles Grand Theatre-

According to the information he'd gathered from the internet, it was an historical landmark. The first theater ever built in Port Charles with balcony seats befitting an opera house, a grand stage for live performances, as well as a silver screen adapted for color films long ago. There were delicate stained glass panels covering the lights in the high ceilings, gold filigree detailing with ornate iron railing, burgundy velvet ropes and curtains, antique sconces and so many other beautifully maintained features. 

Mr. Craig might actually enjoy taking a show there, if he hadn't had a show of his own to put on. A very violent show, he mused. An evil grin formed as he assembled his sniper rifle from his perch in the balcony.

Tonight would not be a repeat performance of the failed attempt on the docks earlier. Mr. Craig had no use for the incompetent partner his client forced on him, but it was how the man paying him wanted it done. So, he'd insisted the arrogant novice act as backup for him tonight. The blond devil really didn't care to kill a kid. It was certain to leave a bad taste in his mouth, but nothing a gourmet meal and nice bottle of wine couldn't wash away, he was sure. It was business, nothing personal. The kid was just another target.

Manny Ruiz lurked in the shadows near the back of the packed theater. The lights were dimmed now and from his spot he could make eye contact with his irritating partner in the balcony while readily accessing the cop and his kid should they try to leave. He hoped they would. He needed that kill to redeem himself after the failure earlier. 

Jason swerved into a make-shift parking space on the side street of the theater. He and Sam jumped from the vehicle fully armed, not bothering with the outdoor ticket booth. One icy glare from Jason was all the snotty teenager needed for admittance. There was no time to argue with an usher to stop the film and turn on the lights. They entered the darkened theater eyes peeled. Each took an aisle, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the darkness before slowly moving forward in search of Lucky and his little boy. They were afraid to shout out for them and alert the killers before they could reach them.

Manny observed the petite bombshell enter his side of the theater and couldn't believe his luck. It was exactly the second chance he needed. Manny followed her gaze to the aisle on the other side to see Jason Morgan with her. How sweet. They were there to try and save the brat. Manny remembered how Morgan handled the woman earlier. How Jason pulled her into his arms and nuzzled her neck in the casino. Part of it may have been purely as a cover to get a better look at him, but the sexual tension between them could not be denied. Heat radiated off both of them. 

Manny also noticed how Jason had put his own body between the woman and the bullets. She mattered to Morgan. Sam McCall was Manny's ticket to Morgan's funeral. He'd let Craig take care of the boy while Manny got a little quality time with sweetness. His crotch was itching to feel her touch. He'd have his fun and when Morgan came looking for her, Manny would take him out. It was a win-win really.

Mr. Craig balanced the rifle against the balcony rail. He'd spotted the target when they were first seated. Now, it was simply a matter of lining up his shot. For the second time in less than a week, Cameron Spencer was at the end of a sniper rifle's scope. Mr. Craig turned on the laser sighting to assist.

Cameron couldn't sit still in his seat. The movie was just starting and he couldn't wait. He loved it when just him and his dad went to the movies. His dad let him get popcorn, candy, soda... the works. His mom never let him have all that when she was with them. Cam smiled up at his dad. His dad was the best ever. Even when he was busy at work, he always made time for him. Not like his cousins, uncle Nik barely ever spent time with Spencer and poor JJ didn't even have a mom or his dad now. His mom didn't want Cam to know about JJ and what happened, but his dad was always honest with him.

Lucky glanced down at Cameron who'd finally managed to sit still for a minute. He'd talked his ear off about the movie for a week. What was it about boys and dragons? He bet by the time they walked out of there tonight Cameron would be convinced he knew everything there was to know about training one. He and his friends would then begin to try and track one down. Lucky grinned and ruffled his son's hair. This boy was his world. 

Sam and Jason spotted Lucky and Cameron seated in the center near the front at almost the exact same time, and then time froze and flew at once. Jason saw the familiar dot of red fall on the back of Cameron's little head poking up above the seat. He drew the gun in his front waistband, ran full force and launched his body in the air hoping to get between the sniper's shot and the boy. Sam saw the sniper's laser on Cameron too and yelled. “Spencer, get your kid down!”

Lucky turned to see the fear on Sam McCall's face, Jason flying toward them, and reflex took over. He pulled his son down, shielding him from danger.

Craig took his shot. Furious Morgan was interfering with his business, but glad to have another chance at killing him.

The bullet missed Cameron, pelting Jason in his upper right arm. He cried out as the bullet ripped through his flesh. He landed on his back and aimed, firing off six into Craig's balcony as he slid across the butter-greased floor to a stop. Craig ducked for cover.

The shots rang out and all hell broke loose with popcorn flying as families abandoned their seats ducking, screaming, and running toward every exit.

Craig recovered and fired off another shot at Morgan this time. Sam turned to take aim at Craig, but was grabbed from behind before she could fire. The surprise and force of the attack disarming her, Sam felt herself being dragged away as she attempted to escape her abductor's grasp.

Lucky lie over Cam on the ground, his eyes meeting Jason's for the first time in five years. Lucky was furious and uncertain what the hell was going on, but also realizing Jason had just helped save his son. Cameron's cries and terrified little eyes pierced Jason's heart. He wondered if that was what Micheal's last moments looked like when it happened to him. He already knew the answer, the photo of Micheal's small lifeless body seared into Jason's memory for all eternity. He wouldn't let that happen to another little boy.

“Go!” Jason motioned for Lucky to run for it. They were pinned on the floor between the seats by Craig's shots. Jason jumped onto the stage, making himself the more tempting target as Lucky darted off with Cameron. They ducked behind an arched column as Lucky scouted for the safest exit. Jason fired once more at Craig before throwing himself into a rolling tumble across the stage as a dragon breathed fire on the screen behind him. He rose from the floor in a flowing motion, firing off three more shots then his heart stopped at the sight of Sam being dragged beyond the front theater doors by the assassin from the casino bar earlier.

Jason continued to draw Craig's fire while working his way toward the doors Sam disappeared behind. Lucky and Cameron had nearly made it to the front exit opposite him. A bit further and the shooter wouldn't have a shot. Suddenly, Luke burst through the doors in front of him. Both nearly shooting each other.

“Get Lucky and Cameron out. I've got to find Sam.” Jason motioned toward Lucky and Cameron's position and Luke nodded.

“I saw him dragging her upstairs, but didn't have a clear shot.” Luke offered as they made it safely out into the lobby. Luke pointed toward the stairs on the right as he headed to the left for Lucky and Cameron. Jason nodded and charged upstairs to find her.

Sam used every skill she'd ever learned to fight the creep off of her, but it was just no use. His grip was iron tight and his gun was jammed into her side. She had to wait for the right moment to strike, just like Jason had done when they were at Jake's.

Jason made his way up the stairs taking cover as best he could. Both assassins were up there, unless they escaped down the stairs on the other side. He trained his gun into the first balcony on his left, ensuring it was empty. Next door was the ladies room followed by a second balcony on his left. Both were clear. That left only the projection room in front of him and balconies and bathroom on the other side.

Luke made his way to Lucky and Cameron, covering them as they made their way safely to the streets outside. Lucky could hear and see the sirens approaching.

Mr. Craig heard the sirens as well and knew it was time to cut his losses. He made his way down the fire escape without detection. Another botched attempt thanks to Senor Ruiz. Where was his assistance when Morgan showed up? Instead of going after Morgan or the boy, Manny had grabbed the woman. Craig had listened as Manny described in crude detail what he'd like to do to the woman. Manny had let his personal desires effect business. No way in hell would Craig's flawless reputation take a hit for that degenerate's stupidity. He'd make certain Zacchara knew exactly who was to blame and why.

Manny clutched Sam close to his body. Her round ass grazed his crotch, causing it to grow for her. How convenient the projection room had a sofa. Too bad it wasn't a bed, but they'd make do. He locked and barricaded the doors on either side of the room with a desk and heavy set of shelves. Morgan would eventually get through, but not before Manny had his fill of sweetness. He hoped. “Looks like you and I finally get to spend some quality time together.”

Sam felt sick. The evil in his eyes confirmed without a doubt he intended to rape her. Sam would die before she ever let that sick freak do that to her. She would die. Better yet, he would die. He'd disarmed her of all weapons except for the gun he'd missed in her boot. If she could just distract him long enough to get a hold of it...


	8. Chapter 8

8.

-Port Charles Grand Theatre-

Lucky stood by his parked car in front of the movie theater, the entire area now blocked off. He knelt down to hug his son then looked into his boy's eyes. “How ya doing? You still scared?”

“Yeah,” Cameron admitted.

Lucky summed up a smile. He was so proud of his son's honesty with him, even when he was scared. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

Cameron smiled. His dad didn't think he was a baby. His dad was scared too and Cam loved how his father always told him the truth, no matter what. It made him want to be the same way.

“Come on.” Lucky opened the rear car door. “You'll be safe in here.” He sat Cameron in the backseat and closed the door.

“Hey,” He called to Cameron through the window.

Cameron pulled up onto his knees at the open glass. “Yeah dad?”

“Guess what.”

“What?” Cameron replied.

“I love you.” Lucky poked Cameron on his nose earning a chuckle from the growing boy.

“I'm going to have Officer Dante and Officer Coop take you and mom some place safe while I finish up some work, okay?” Lucky knew Falconeri and Barrett would protect his family with their lives. They were good cops and the only ones in the department he trusted implicitly aside from his partner and Mac.

“Okay, dad. Don't worry. I'll keep mom safe. You keep safe too.” Cameron tried not to worry. He knew his dad was the best cop on the force.

Lucky half-smiled and blinked back proud tears. “I will. Tell your mother I love her and I love you too. I'll come get you as soon as it's safe.”

“Yes sir. Love you dad.” Cameron watched his father turn and walk away. He said a quick prayer asking God and his Aunt Lulu to watch over his dad from heaven and bring him home soon.

Cruz footed it back over to his partner. “One body, bald Latino male, lots of tattoos. It's a pretty nasty crime scene, but no sign of Morgan, McCall, or the other gunman.”

“That sounds like the man my dad described abducting Sam at gunpoint. How did you guys get here so fast?” Lucky knew the department's normal timed response to that area and also knew Cruz would've been at his desk finishing paperwork, not on patrol.

“Anonymous tip came in over the lines, a woman claimed she'd overheard a hit being placed on your son and thought it was going down tonight.” Tech was still working on tracing the call. “The alert was sent directly to me since you were off duty. I knew you were headed here. Mac figured I better come check it out with a few units.”

“My boy,” Lucky shook his head, enraged, as they walked. “They went after my kid!”

“Listen to me, we're going to lock-down the gah damned city! We'll find Morgan and McCall.” Cruz was determined to capture the cowardice bastards who'd come at a man through his children.

“It wasn't them.” Lucky told Cruz.

“What?” Cruz was confused. 

When they arrived it was chaos and Lucky only had time to mention Morgan and McCall were in there along with two other gunman before Cruz and reinforcements stormed the building.

“Jason and Sam saved Cameron tonight. They saved my son.” Lucky owed them big and didn't even know where to begin to repay them.

Cruz struggled to swallow that bit of knowledge. A cold-blooded mob enforcer and document forger with obvious contempt for the law had risked their own lives to save his partner's son?

Lucky made his way over to their unmarked unit. “You got the keys?”

Cruz pulled them from his jacket and tossed them to Lucky.

“Have Barrett and Falconeri take Cameron and Elizabeth some place safe. You three and Mac are the only ones I trust with them until this is over.” Lucky unlocked the trunk and pulled out the assault rifle and his bulletproof vest.

“You want us to tell her what's going on?” Cruz was all too familiar with Elizabeth's tendency toward histrionics.

“Tell her the truth, but try and hold off as much of it as you can until it's over.” He replied as he slapped the magazine cartridge into his rifle. With any luck, he'd be home before she drove everyone crazy with worry.

“What are you doing Lucky?” Cruz knew he wouldn't answer, but he just wanted to make Lucky think before he went off half-cocked. He knew Lucky was going after the bastards and the look on his face told him there would be no stopping him. Cruz would cover for him at the scene then catch up with his partner as quick as he could. “Answer your cell when I call.”

Lucky nodded once and Cruz reluctantly turned to the scene to tie things up. Lucky was just driving off when the passenger door flung open and Luke jumped inside.

“Hey Cowboy, mind if I ride shotgun?” Luke grinned holding up Lucky's rifle from the seat he'd just occupied.

Lucky huffed with a slight smile and shake of his head. There was no point arguing. He knew Luke had been waiting to take down Zacchara for four long years. Lucky's heart twisted painfully in his chest. His dad had been right. He knew it in his gut now. Lucky held Zacchara's violent lifestyle accountable for inviting the danger that ended his sister's life. It was ruled an accident, but Lucky always suspected it was payback to Zacchara from some rival. 

Luke always claimed it was Anthony Zacchara himself. Lucky never believed it, until tonight. The bastard wouldn't live another day. Cop or not, Zacchara had murdered his sister, and hired men to kill his seven year old son. Lucky would be damned before Anthony Zacchara lived to see one more sunrise, and Luke was right there with him. It felt good to know his father had his back. “I figured you left to get a head start on me.”

Luke threw a sly grin his way. “I did, sort of.”

Lucky raised a questioning brow over at Luke.

Luke sighed. Better Lucky know now before going in just exactly what he was getting himself into. “I called for a little reinforcement.”

Lucky knew his dad meant he'd called his old friend, Sonny Corinthos. Normally he'd be pissed, but tonight Lucky didn't care if he ended up partnering with the devil himself as long as Zacchara was dead in the end. Lucky was just afraid with Sonny in the mix, he'd miss the whole damn fight. Besides, his nephew was in that house and he wasn't sure Sonny or his men would have JJ's safety as their first concern.

“We're meeting up with Sonny's men a few minutes outside of Zacchara's estate.” Luke informed. 

Lucky gripped the wheel, anxious for the kind of justice his badge had yet to offer, and put his foot down on the gas. “Just point the way.”

-Diego's Ride-

The drive back to the hotel was quiet. Too quiet, Jason thought. In the short time he'd known Sam, she had never allowed more than ten minutes of silence between them. She looked so small and fragile in the passenger seat next to him that he just wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her.

Her arms were drawn tight to her chest and Jason noticed a violent shiver run over her entire upper body. She'd insisted she was fine after what Manny had done to her, after what she'd done to Manny. But he was afraid she might be going into shock now. “You sure you're okay?”

Sam watched the light turn from yellow to red as the vehicle slowed to a stop. Red, like the blood. She felt his eyes on her, but didn't want to look at him. She didn't want him to see her, really see her. She wasn't strong enough yet to hide all of the emotion, feelings she was fighting to forget after Manny had taken her. But something in the way Jason spoke gave her courage to meet his gaze. No one had ever spoken to her with such tenderness and concern. He sounded vulnerable too and somehow she knew he needed her to look at him to show she was really okay.

She looked over into his eyes, her heart thumping offbeat at what she saw there. “I'll be fine Jason.” 

Sam struggled to give him a small smile as she reached out for his hand with both of hers and held onto it tightly over the console. She couldn't deny him now and, with the look he gave her with those watery blue eyes, wasn't sure she could deny him anything ever again. If she'd known what real love was, she might believe that's what she saw in his eyes for her now, but Sam McCall had never known real love. She'd never loved someone with all her heart and had the feeling returned. 

The only person that ever truly loved her was her brother Danny, but that was different and so long ago. Sam hardly knew what love looked like anymore. She only knew Jason made her feel.. more, more than she'd ever felt in her entire life and it was a good feeling. Scary good, but she never wanted it to end.

Sam felt Jason's hand give hers a squeeze then his thumb began its absentminded caresses against her palm. She sighed, marveling and reveling in the comfort and strength even the smallest touch from him provided.

Jason looked into those glistening bourbon eyes full of vulnerability and uncertainty and fell drunk in love with Sam McCall. It may not make sense after only knowing her such a short time, but it didn't matter. Jason was many things, but he was not a liar. His mind had no choice other than to accept the truth his heart professed with every beat. 

He wanted to tell her he would always be there for her, wanted to promise to always be with her. Promise her everything, but he couldn't. He'd failed the last person he promised everything to in the worst possible way and he'd vowed to himself long ago never to make that mistake again. He didn't even know if he'd make it out alive. Forget everything, he wasn't in a position to promise her anything. Except for right now, he could promise her that moment. “I am here for you. Whatever you need, Sam. I'm here.”

Sam watched the light switch to green and shut her eyes to his words. She swallowed down the overwhelming emotions his words evoked and held onto his hand for dear life. She only needed him. All she needed in life was Jason Morgan by her side, but she knew that was too much to hope for. Good things never lasted, but she had him now. In that moment, tonight, she had him and she wouldn't allow fear to waste the gift she'd been given.

-Metro Court-

Carly Corinthos Jacks was not a typical sight on Parking Level 2. In fact, she was pretty sure that was only the second time she'd ever visited the floor. The first being part of the grand tour when she became part owner years back. If there was a problem that was what her Operations Manager, Olivia, was for and if it was something else they came to her, but this time Carly wanted to come to them. 

The quick action of one of her hotel's drivers during an attempted kidnapping had saved the son of one of their resident guests. It had hit very close to home for Carly and she'd wanted to thank her employee personally complete with a very nice bonus. So, the odds of her entering the very same corridor at the very same time Jason and Sam rounded the corner from the garage had to be astronomically high...

Carly took one look at the friend she'd missed for five long years and practically flew into his arms. “Jason? Jason, Jason. Oh my God! You're home. You're really home.” Tears sprung to her eyes and she attempted to blink them back as she hugged the air out of him, squeezing a little too hard against his wound.

Carly thanked her lucky stars while Jason silently cursed his, knowing she'd have questions he couldn't answer without placing her in danger.

Carly pulled back to look at him. She noticed him wince just before she saw the blood on his jacket. “Oh my Gawd, you're in town all of five minutes and you've already been shot!”

“I'm fine.” Jason insisted and Carly rolled her eyes at his standard response.

“The hell you are, come with me. I'll take you to a room, get a doctor if needed.” She headed for the back elevator.

Jason followed knowing better than to argue as Sam clutched Jason's hand and trailed by his side. Carly turned after hitting the call button to notice the woman with him for the first time. She was small, but very attractive Carly had to admit. She noted the slight marring of her lovely face by a fresh cut over a welted bruise forming at her cheek bone. 

She hadn't really made eye contact with Carly and Carly could tell by the way she dressed with such confidence that must be unusual for the woman. She looked... traumatized and she had a death grip on Jason's hand. Carly thought that might be blood on one of her hands, Jason's maybe. She looked familiar, Carly realized and suddenly placed her. She'd seen her around town and at the Haunted Star a few times. She couldn't recall her name, but was certain she was a friend of Luke's.

Jason saw Carly eyeing Sam. “Carly, this is Sam. Sam, this is Carly Corinthos Jacks. One of my oldest and best friends.”

Sam did her best to smile and hold her gaze, but she was having a hard time making eye contact with people just now and she couldn't bring herself to take her hands away from Jason's to shake. Sam gave a friendly nod. “Nice to see you again Carly.”

“Sam McCall,” Their first introduction finally popped into Carly's head. She remembered being impressed with the way the spirited woman had handled a crass jerk at the Haunted Star one night.

“You're friends with my crazy uncle. I knew I recognized you. Good to see you again too.” Carly nodded back with a measured smile, intrigued, with a million questions fighting to leave her lips. One of the first, how did Sam know Jason?

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. All three stepped inside and Carly used her master key to bypass all other stops.

“We already have a room here Carly.” Jason admitted guiltily.

Carly turned to look at him and Jason felt bad for the hurt that flashed in his friend's blue eyes. It stung to learn Jason was in town for a while, was even staying in her hotel but obviously avoiding her. It didn't matter right now she told herself. Jason was injured and he'd just come home. She didn't want to do or say anything to push him away so she swallowed the hurt. “What room?”

Jason gave her the suite number and they made their way without further delay.

Carly entered first as Jason closed the door behind them, both noticing the sigh of relief fall over Sam as she heard Jason engage the deadbolt. Carly frowned thoughtfully. What the hell had happened to her?

Sam felt self-conscious under the beautiful blond's gaze. “I think I'll take a shower and change.”

Sam breathed deep and let go of Jason's hand. She took a step toward the bedroom and froze. It was dark in there. Dammit, she cursed to herself! Manny had stirred up all kinds of bad memories from her past. It had taken her years to finally get over her fear of the dark and even still she had to sleep with a night light in case the nightmares returned.

Jason noticed Sam's hesitancy to leave his side for the darkened room. “Wait, let me check it out first.”

He went into the bedroom and bathroom and turned on every bright light, even checked under the bed just so he could tell her he had. “All clear. Even under the bed.”

Sam gave him a small smile and blinked to keep the tears from falling. He knew, somehow he knew exactly what she needed.

“Thank you Jason.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

The curve of his lips tilted upward at her words. “I'll be right here if you need anything.”

Sam nodded then lowered and angled her head to keep Jason and Carly from seeing the tears that fell despite her best efforts as she escaped to the other room.

Carly felt bad. She didn't know what happened, but whatever it was must have frightened the hell out of Sam and now Jason was shot and bleeding. She flipped open her cell phone. “Marty, I need a first-aid kit brought to suite 1108 right away. Good, oh, and Marty? Make sure to keep this between you and me. Last you heard I stepped out for an errand. Thanks, Marty.”

Carly flipped her phone closed, took one look at Jason and held up a hand knowing what he was about to say. “Don't tell me not to worry Jason. My best friend finally comes home after five years, hurt, and obviously in trouble... I'm worried!”

Jason exhaled a deep breath. It had been a long time and he supposed he was overdue for a Carly headache. He began to remove his jacket carefully.

Carly helped. “Have you talked to Sonny yet?”

Jason grimaced as the jacket lowered off of his injured arm. “No, Carly, and I don't want you to either.” Jason gave her a look of warning. “Swear you won't tell Sonny I'm here.”

Carly shook her head. “He'd want to help you Jason. He misses you. We've all missed you so much.”

“Trust me Carly, if Sonny knows what business brought me back to Port Charles the last thing he wants to do is help.” Jason had come back to finish his third hit which was supposed to be Sonny, until Johnny died and Anthony switched the job to Cameron. 

He was certain Sonny would know about the contract on his head, of Jason working for Zacchara, and of his return to Port Charles and put the three together.

Carly wouldn't believe it. “You're wrong Jason. There isn't anything he wouldn't do for you. He still thinks of you like a brother. Everything fell apart when you left, for Sonny more than any of us.”

Jason was skeptical. “What do you mean? Sonny's still running things. What's fallen apart?”

Carly's voice softened as they both sat on the sofa. “Yeah, Sonny's still the boss, but it's not the same. Things are... more dangerous now. Sonny was always the strong wind in the sail, but you, Jason, you were the rudder. Without you he's lost at sea, chasing one threat after another in whatever direction his sails take him in that moment. No focus, no big picture with seemingly little regard for his own life, or those under his protection. And it's only getting worse.”

Jason remembered the scene at the lair and realized Carly probably wasn't exaggerating by much, if at all. He felt bad, but he was done with that life. “I can't save him, Carly. I can't save anyone.” Not Micheal, not Sam, not his mother or his sister, Jason thought to himself.

Carly could see he was still beating himself up about Michael. “You saved me. Your friendship, your love for me, for my boys, and for Michael.. saved me Jason. It gave me the strength I needed to get through the worst times of my life.”

“Carly, don't.” Jason couldn't stand for her to praise him when it was his failure that kept Micheal from ever coming home.

Carly smiled painfully through her tears. She hated to see Jason so emotionally detached. He'd held that reputation by so many when he worked for Sonny as his enforcer, but Carly had always known that couldn't be further from the truth until now, until they'd lost Micheal. “He loved you so much Jason. He wouldn't want you to deny yourself the love of your friends and family, or anyone else.”

“That's not what I'm doing Carly.” And it wasn't really a lie, at least not completely. Jason hadn't left to punish himself. He'd left to find answers and, if his leads were real, maybe even find Micheal alive and bring him home. It was a possibility he dared not hope for, but he had. Despite his doubts, he hoped Micheal was still alive somewhere even though his hope faded more and more with every lead that led to nothing. No answers, no Michael. He couldn't tell anyone of his search, especially Carly. He couldn't put her through the heartbreak of losing him all over again.

Carly wiped at her tears and looked him square in the eyes. “Isn't it? You haven't let a single person in since he died. Five years Jason. In the last five years I can count on half of one hand the times I've seen you and that was only because I tracked you down after you refused to return my calls.”

A faint smile brushed his lips. Carly was the only one he knew that loved him fiercely enough to track him down to the ends of the earth, literally. He'd never forget the smug smile of satisfaction on her face as she strolled up next to him at the beach bar she'd found him in on a small unheard of island off the coast of Australia three years ago, or the fury on her face the day she charged up to him last year in a small Colombian village while he was doing outreach for Father Coates' clinic.

“You've closed yourself off to love and that's no way to live Jason.” Carly softened. “As much as it hurts, and I know you know I understand how much losing Micheal broke your heart, we have to soldier on. Keep the faith that we'll find love again and fight with everything we have to hold onto that love while it lasts because without it everything else is pointless.”

Jason knew she was right, but knowing and doing were two different things. He wanted to tell her the truth, but it wasn't the right time. He had to finish things with Zacchara first. If he lived and once Monica and Emily were home safe, then maybe he could finally tell her. “There's a reason I left Carly, a very good reason and I promise to tell you one day.”

Carly nodded sadly. She'd heard that same explanation too many times to count since Jason left. She wasn't sure if she believed it anymore, but it was clear he still did. “Maybe so. I'd like to believe the bravest man I've ever known didn't tuck tail and run away from life because he was too afraid to live it.”

There was a knock at the door and Carly answered it. She accepted the medical supplies from Marty at the door before closing and bolting it again. She spent the next fifteen minutes busying herself with cleaning and bandaging Jason's gunshot wound. Fortunately, it was a through and through in the fleshy part of his upper arm and would heal without any lasting damage aside from perhaps a slight scar to add to his collection.

*****

Sam finished scrubbing every last part of her body clean and stepped from the steaming stall as she wrapped herself in one of the plush terry robes the hotel provided. She cinched the robe tight around her waist and ran her fingers through her towel-dried hair. The shower had helped a bit, but she still felt him on her. 

Sam was pissed with herself. She should be stronger. She had been through worse and she should be stronger than she felt at that moment dammit! It wasn't like Manny actually raped her. He'd tried. He'd forced his mouth and tongue on hers and groped her breasts, but she'd stopped him before it went any further. Stopped, that was one way of putting it. Sam squeezed her eyes closed trying to shut out the images in her mind. 

She'd never killed anyone before, until tonight. Sam had to play along with Manny for a bit until he allowed her to begin to undress. She stood by the desk he'd used to barricade the door and held the corner as she removed her boots. She'd almost pulled the gun from her boot when he realized what she was doing and snatched it from her. 

He'd slammed her up against the desk and attempted to... Her eyes squeezed tight, not wanting to think of what he'd intended for her. He'd told her how he'd paid a nice little visit to Father Coates earlier and that when he was done with her and had killed Jason, he just might go pay Jason's mother and sister a visit down in Buenaventura and spend some quality time with them, and that's when Sam had lost it. Manny had thrown her knife to the floor, but her hand had found a letter opener on the desk behind her and she'd lashed out so fast, so violently, Manny hadn't had a chance to stop her from driving it in his neck just under his ear. 

It embedded into his brain stem and Sam had never seen so much blood before. It missed her clothes, but coated the hand that held the letter opener. She felt like she could still feel the sticky residue of death on her fingers even now. She didn't think she'd ever forget the wide-eyed shock in those evil black eyes, the sickening feeling of dull metal as it sunk into his flesh, or the terrifying sound of his last gasp before he collapsed.

Jason had finally broken down the door and made his way inside to find her unconscious on the floor. She couldn't stand the sight and smell of all that blood, of what she'd done. In her head she knew it truly was self-defense and that's why she was pissed with herself now for allowing it to shake her so much.

Sam couldn't stay in the bedroom another minute, all alone with the quiet and her thoughts. She started to return to the living room, but stopped short realizing Carly was still there. She stood kind of paralyzed, not wanting to eavesdrop, but unable to retreat to the silent torment of her thoughts or advance and reveal her vulnerability to the successful, strong blond sitting next to Jason.

Carly smoothed her hand over Jason's shoulder. “Look, I'll see that no one disturbs your room. Get some rest. Just promise me you won't leave town without saying goodbye first?”

Jason half-smiled. “I promise.”

Carly smiled, frustrated with herself for getting misty again. “I love you.”

Jason sighed. “I love you too, Carly. I know I don't say it much, but I do.”

Carly smiled brighter. “I know. You and me, we're more actions speak louder than words kind of people. I like it better that way. Actions mean more than words.”

Jason pulled his friend into a hug.

Carly sighed happily. It felt good to have her friend home again. She couldn't help wonder about the trouble he was in, and Sam. “Is Sam alright? She looked pretty shaken.”

Sam's ears perked at hearing her name. She held her breath hoping Jason wouldn't say too much. She didn't want anyone to know.

Jason looked down as emotion choked him. “She was, she was hurt. She'll be okay. I'll make sure she's okay.”

Sam released her breath in relief, another piece of her heart falling into Jason Morgan's hands. Very soon, he would own all the pieces of her heart. He was so incredibly protective of her. 

Carly could hear it in his voice. “You have feelings for her.”

Jason eyes shot up to hers, not at all sure why he was surprised Carly could still read him so well, and when Jason looked up, Carly could see it clear on his face. “You, you're falling in love with her!”

Jason knew it wasn't logical. “What? Carly, that's crazy. We just met.”

Carly chortled. “Love is crazy sometimes, doesn't mean it isn't real.”

Jason couldn't deny it. It would be a lie. Besides, he didn't want to deny it. He was falling for her. He was falling in love with Sam McCall.

Carly grinned like the cat who stole the cream. He hadn't denied it because he knew she was right. “Does she make you happy, Jason?”

Sam thought her heart would beat out of her chest waiting for his next words. Her fingernails dug into the door frame for support in case her knees gave out. Jason hadn't denied it when Carly insisted he was falling in love with her. Love. Her. Sam McCall!

Jason's face scrunched up. “We, we've kind of been a little too busy dodging bullets to share too many laughs, but... yeah.”

Another piece, more pieces, all the pieces of her heart, Jason Morgan had them all now. Sam had never felt anything as profoundly as what she felt for that man right now. It had to be love.

Carly's grin relaxed into a soft smile. “Then I'm thankful she came into your life. Nobody deserves some happiness more than you.”

Carly kissed him on the cheek and rose from the sofa. “Call me if you need anything and I do mean anything! And remember, you promised you'll say goodbye first!”

Jason smirked. “I'll remember. Take care Carly.”

Carly opened the door and turned to look at him once more. “Stay safe Jason.” She told him then shut the door behind her as she left. 

She pressed the speed dial on her phone as she approached the elevator. Carly never actually promised she wouldn't tell Sonny and she'd be damned if she let Jason get himself killed because he didn't feel right about asking Sonny for help.

Sam ducked back into the bedroom when Carly got up to leave. She sat on the bed, trying to get her heart and mind to stop racing.

Jason stood to re-engage the deadbolt on the door. He didn't hear the water. Sam must be out of the shower. He really needed a shower of his own, so he didn't bother putting his shirt back on as he headed into the bedroom.

Sam felt him enter the room then looked up and swallowed hard. Jason Morgan shirtless was a sight to behold. Her eyes feasted over every line and plane of his chiseled chest and biceps.

“Will you be alright while I take a shower?” All Jason really wanted to do looking at her now was hold her in his arms until they fell asleep. She looked so lost, and beautiful.

“I'll be fine.” Sam hoped her voice didn't betray her. She wasn't sure she'd be fine at all. She just wanted him to hold her.

Jason wasn't sure if he believed her, but decided to take her at her word. “I'll be quick.”

Sam half-smiled and nodded. “I'll be in the living room.”

xxxxx

Sam smiled as she heard Jason enter the living room behind her. He couldn't have taken more than five minutes to shower. He'd rushed for her.

Jason looked over at the television. It was tuned to one of those satellite music stations and something about the military percussion caught his ear. He listened for a moment... the words resonating with what he felt inside. They reminded him of something Carly told him about being a soldier of love. 

Sam turned from her view of the city after a minute or so went by and Jason hadn't spoken. She noticed him staring at the television. “It was too quiet. The music helps me not feel so alone.”

Jason's focus returned to Sam. He stepped closer to her at the glass balcony doors. “You're not alone Sam.” Jason stood in front of her now, sweeping a stubborn lock of hair from her eyes. “I'm right here.”

Sam closed her eyes, loving the feel of his fingertips brushing against her face and outline of her ear.

“Thank you.” She nearly whispered.

He ran the back of his fingers from her earlobe up her jawline in the softest caress. “I don't deserve your thanks.”

Sam opened her eyes, studying his expression intently. “What do you deserve?”

He shook his head as he continued to stroke her cheek with his thumb. “I don't deserve you.” His eyes were the truest blue she'd ever seen. “I don't deserve anything as good as you.”

Sam's breathing deepened. She wanted him, needed him. “I've been telling myself that same thing about you. Maybe we should stop listening to what our head tells us and follow our heart.”

Jason's chest pounded. His hand left her cheek to run down along her arm. He wanted her so much. Could she really want him too? He had to know. “Where would your heart lead you, Sam?”

Sam stared into the safe warm water in his eyes, inviting, welcoming, and pleading as she closed the distance between them and hugged him to her. “Right here, in your arms.”

Jason exhaled a forgotten breath and sighed at the comfort found from the most natural feeling in the world, Sam in his arms. He pulled her even closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck to breathe her in and memorizing her scent.

Sam's heart pounded. She needed him so much, but wasn't sure she could explain it right. She pulled back and held his face in her hands. “I don't want Manny to be my last memory before I fall asleep. Help me erase it Jason. Erase his touch with yours.”

Jason's heart beat to life with her words sending love and desire coursing through his body. The yearning, pleading, and need in Sam's glimmering brown eyes matched his own. He may not be able to promise her everything, may not be able to give her anything like he wanted, but he could give himself. 

He could give her all the love he felt inside for her, make her feel it in every look, kiss, every touch. He would give her all of himself tonight and pray he'd find his way back to her so he could spend the rest of his life showing her how much she'd already come to mean to him. 

He'd never felt love like that before. It was a burning need, a need as fundamental to his existence as breathing. Jason held her gaze, swallowed hard, and nodded slowly as he held her in his arms.

“Jason,” Sam exhaled breathlessly, her fingernails digging into the back of his neck as she pulled him to her lips.

It was a slow gentle kiss, not at all as fierce and forceful as his passion may have taken him had Sam not experienced what she had earlier that night. But it was decidedly better. It was their first kiss and he wanted her memories of him to be tender and loving. He wanted to make love to her until the only touch she ever remembered, ever wanted to remember, was his.

Her lips melted against his as the heat between them rose. His lips slowly, hesitantly brushed hers as he softly sucked her lower lip and traced the outline of her mouth with his tongue. Never pushing forward, he allowed her to set the pace as his mouth moved delicately over hers. She opened her mouth to him, sucking his tongue inside her, and moaned at the pleasure his hot tongue gave as it slid across hers and she pressed her body against him.

She needed more. She needed to feel his touch, his mouth all over her body. She pulled away breathless from his attentions, her heart pounding and her core clenching as his eyes met hers, darkened by desire. “I need you, Jason.”

He lifted her up, cradling her against his chest and carried her into the bedroom as his lips and tongue traced soft kisses along her jaw and down her neck. She tilted her head, allowing his mouth to find a sensitive spot near her pulse to gently nibble and suck. Sam bit her lip, loving the feeling of his mouth on her skin and amazed by his gentle strength. She felt the power in his muscles as they undulated against her, yet he cradled her like a flower he was afraid of crushing.

He lowered her to stand in front of him at the side of the bed. She stared up at him chewing her bottom lip, suddenly a bit nervous to make a next move. The desire in his eyes softened. Jason gently grasped her chin with his thumb and bent finger, slowly turning her face to examine the small cut and bruise on her cheek she'd received when Manny pistol-whipped her across the face. His jaw clenched with outrage. Manny's death had been too quick. Jason breathed deep and lowered his lips to place a kiss over her injured cheek.

Sam felt the feather-lite touch of his lip's caress and closed her eyes to keep from crying at the gentleness in his touch.

Jason raised her hand to his lips, the hand she'd used against Manny, softly kissing her palm and each finger. Jason wanted to be the one to kill Manny. He didn't want that evil bastard's death on Sam's hands. He untied the strap on his robe allowing it to fall open to his naked body beneath and held her palm against his chest, every beat of his heart replacing the lingering traces of death with life.

Jason lifted her chin again to kiss her neck and noticed the bruise just under her left jaw, confused at the fact that it looked older and then it hit him. That mark remained from when he'd shoved his gun to her throat. Tears filled his eyes at the shame he felt for losing control with her. No better than the animal that attacked her tonight, he told himself. He swallowed back the lump in his throat alternately kissing and softly brushing his lips back and forth against the mark he'd made on her. He closed his eyes as his lips rested against that spot, ignoring his tears as they fell across his cheeks.

Sam felt his lips kiss her neck, the way he lingered at the spot. His fingers ran soothing circles on her lower back as he kissed her. It wasn't until she felt his warm tears fall against her that she realized he was trying to erase the memory of her bruise from their previous confrontation with his gun.

Sam pulled back, grabbing the sides of his face in her hands and forcing him to look in her eyes. Her heart staggered at the pain, shame, and remorse she saw there. His lips trembled. Sam looked deep into his eyes and simply whispered, “No,” as she slowly shook her head. Jason was nothing like Manny.

Jason swallowed hard, unbelieving someone could experience him at his worst and still look at him with such love. He was sure it had to be love he saw there in her amber eyes. Sam pulled his face to hers placing soft kisses all over before finding his lips again. 

She ran her hands beneath Jason's robe, loving the feel of soft steel beneath her hands as they roamed up and down his chest then around to his broad shoulders and down his back before smoothing her hands over his bare ass and squeezing firmly as she dug her nails in to his cheeks and pulled them up along his skin.

Jason growled at the sensation of Sam's nails on his ass as her tongue glided and twirled against his. He felt himself harden. He needed to touch more of her. He broke the kiss to watch her reaction as he reached for the tie on her robe. Sam's eyes shined with want. She found the tie and tugged allowing the weight of the luxurious terry to pull the robe open and reveal her nakedness beneath.

Jason kissed each shoulder as he pushed the heavy robe off her letting it fall at her feet. His shaft swelled at the sight of her lush curves, toned body, and full breasts. He couldn't wait to put his mouth on every inch of her.

Jason moved to the edge of the bed and lowered the sheets. Sam eased backward onto the bed, mesmerized with the way he looked at her, worshiped her with his eyes. He shifted his shoulders sending his robe to the floor. Sam's pulse quickened and heat pooled at the sight of his naked form. She watched his excited shaft dance up and down as he crawled up on the bed with her and longed to touch it.

He kissed her, their passion building as the kiss deepened and their hands explored each other. Jason swallowed her moans as his hand found her breasts. His fingers gently caressed, then cupped them as his thumb and index rubbed her nipples to hardened peaks.

Sam arched into his grasp, a series of soft moans stifled by his hot mouth on hers. She bit her lip as his mouth began its journey south. She gasped at the sensation as he took her breast in his mouth to suckle and tease, wet kisses trailing to her other breast before his hot tongue teased it as well. Her chest heaved with deep erratic breaths. Want and need mingled together as his fingers sank within her hot folds causing her to push herself shamelessly against his hand as he massaged her toward ecstasy.

Jason growled against her flesh. “Sammm, I have to taste you.”

His words sent a shiver throughout her body as she ran her hand through his hair at the back of his head. Jason took his time, kissing and caressing her arms, neck, shoulders, breasts... all the way down to her lower abdomen. He lifted her leg over his shoulder, placing his face inches from her dripping heat. He breathed her in and felt himself throb with need. She was so wet and she smelled so good. Jason pressed his lips to her intimately, licking and sucking with fervor and loving the cries of pleasure as she attempted to whisper his name between shallow breaths.

His mouth stayed on her, with her, bringing her higher and higher until there was no place left to go, but to fall helplessly over the edge into pure bliss as she cried out with his name on her lips. Her fist, full of his hair as she pressed his face against her pulsing sex. He smiled against her as she let herself go, savoring her salty sweetness as her body continued to quake and tremble beneath him. He kissed her there once more then up her inner thighs before rising up and over her.

Jason's body settled over hers as he supported his weight with elbows on either side. He smirk-smiled as he watched her catch her breath, unable to speak. She just smiled up at him and pulled his lips to hers, her body quivering in another wave of desire as she tasted herself on his lips and tongue. Sam reached down between them, gripping and stroking his length, and swallowing his moan as she felt him swell beneath her firm hand.

He pulled from their kiss, gasping for breath. “I need to be inside you.”

Sam needed it too. Her hand guided him up and down between her wet folds, smothering his hard shaft with her slickness before positioning him at her entrance. She held Jason's gaze as he entered her slowly, both sighing at the wondrous sensation of their bodies joining as one. Her tight softness pillowed his girth as his length settled into her fully.

His eyes resting on hers as he began to move inside her in long, slow strokes and she felt the tears building. This was love, his touch was love.

Jason saw that she was crying and stopped. “Am I hurting you?”

Her heart burst at the tenderness and concern in his voice for her. She shook her head. “It's never felt like this before.”

Jason breathed easier knowing what she meant. He felt it too. “It's never felt this right before. You feel so good, so right.”

Sam nodded solemnly as he brushed her tears from her cheeks and leaned to kiss her softly, seductively, as his thrusts continued. Passion quickly overtook them as his pace quickened, plunging faster and harder to fulfill her pleading cries. His rhythm threatened her sanity with its sinful delight; fast then slow, fast then slow. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down against her, wanting to feel his body crush hers as he pummeled her into delirium. 

Her lips devoured, her tongue plunging inside his mouth to taste him as he pushed her higher and higher. The friction of his relentless thrusts rubbed deliciously against her swollen bud. And she was, she was falling, falling. Over and over the waves rippled through her, her walls contracting around him with uncontrollable shudders as she came. 

Jason felt her tighten and pulse against his throbbing shaft and lost himself. With one final thrust, his seed spilled deep inside her as he cried out her name. Sam, Sam, the only thing that mattered in his entire world was Sam and he knew in that moment, as he lay on top of her still buried inside her that he needed to find a way to give her everything and more.

He needed to spend his life loving her and making her happy more than he needed his next breath. He kissed her with every bit of love he'd denied his heart for five long years, for longer even. He'd never felt that much love and he gave it all to her in that kiss. He rolled off of her and swiftly pulled her against him, her head resting against his bare chest as her fingers trailed lazily up and down his abs. Jason kissed the top of her head and nuzzled her hair as he held her close.

“Jason, that was...” Sam couldn't think of a word good enough to describe what that was. Amazing was the closest thing, but even that word paled to what they'd just shared.

“More,” Jason finished the thought and hugged her tight. “Everything is just so much more, with you.”

She looked up at him and smiled, teary-eyed and speechless with the emotions he brought out in her. She pressed a gentle kiss to his bare chest as she cuddled closer against him. The steady cadence of his heart, the warm safety of his strong embrace, the soothing caress of his fingers against her back, and the love he made her feel were Sam's only thoughts before sleep claimed her.


	9. Chapter 9

9.

-Metro Court-

Jason never let Sam go after making love. He held her in his arms as she drifted off to sleep. He knew these moments were precious and might be all he ever had with her. So he held her tightly, as he lovingly stroked her bare skin, and ran his fingers through her hair. He spoke to her, telling her all the things in his heart. The things he wouldn't be able to say if she were awake...

“I've never felt this way before, Sam. You're the first person in five years to make me think about a future, instead of just surviving one day to the next. You make me want to promise you everything. I wish I could, but I can't make that mistake again. I promised someone everything once. Promised to protect him and give him everything he needed to grow up happy, healthy and loved. I failed. I wasn't there to keep him safe when Faith kidnapped him. I wasn't there to find him before...before it was too late,” Jason choked on his memories, “Kristina and Morgan were saved, but not Michael. The FBI never found his body. All we got was a picture. A dirt-streaked little face and blood on his shirt. So small and so still. Carly and Sonny dedicated that playground in the park in memory of Michael. The swings were his favorite. Sonny agreed to let me walk away from the business afterward. He could see I needed to go. Part of it was that I'd lost my focus for the job, but the real reason I left was to find answers and...maybe find Michael. I've never told anyone. I couldn't watch them get their hopes up only to lose him all over again, but I was finally getting close this time. I know it, but I had to postpone my trip to Greece until Monica and Emily are safe. I need to make them safe, Sam, so I can find Michael and come back to you. I can't promise you anything more than tonight, but right now in this moment, I'm here with you, holding you, and wishing it would last forever.”

Sam stirred in his arms, snuggling in closer and hugging him to her. Jason quieted for a moment until she settled...

“I should let you rest,” he whispered, then placed a kiss on her forehead. 

He inhaled her scent and held her close one final moment before carefully easing out of bed. He dressed himself and walked to the living room to prepare for the battle ahead. He would kill Anthony Zacchara and rescue his mother and sister, or die trying. He reloaded his clip with the ammo from the stash they'd acquired from Diego and pulled out a special bullet for Zacchara. A bullet with his name on it.

He loaded all the weapons and put all, but his own, back in the case. He left a loaded gun for Sam with an extra clip, slipped his own gun in the back of his waistband and closed the door silently behind him as he left. He knew Sam might try to go with him if he woke her to say goodbye and he wouldn't be the reason anything more happened to her.

*****

Michael Sonny Corinthos, Jr. stormed the Metro-Court lobby armed and ready to kill someone. His trusted bodyguards, Max and Milo, at his side. He'd known the moment Jason Morgan stepped foot in his town. He knew of the two hits Jason handled for Zacchara. Both morally bankrupt drug pushers involved in human trafficking and stupid enough to think they could steal from Zacchara and live. 

Sonny also knew about Jason's third target. Jason Morgan had come to Port Charles to take him out, but apparently something went wrong and now Zacchara wanted Jason dead. Sonny hadn't lifted a finger to help Jason, but he also hadn't lifted a finger to hurt him. Considering a man he once believed cared for him like a brother was now here to kill him, Sonny thought he'd been more than fair. Until now, that is. 

Jason took the express elevator down to the main lobby. He wanted to drop off a note for Carly at the front desk. He'd promised he wouldn't leave without saying goodbye first. He knew this isn't what she meant, but it was all he could do. Besides, if something happened, he wanted her to have his last words to her in writing. It wasn't much, just a few quickly scribbled lines, but it covered what was most important. 

He sighed remembering she'd tracked him down to the ends of the earth and wouldn't surprise him if she tracked him down in the afterlife just to give him hell for leaving her with just this note. He'd also written a few lines on separate sheets for Monica, Emily, and Sam just in case and asked her to deliver them in person.

Jason finished with the attendant and turned to stare directly into a pair of dangerously dark eyes he hadn't looked into for five years. He froze uncertain of Sonny's intent, but the looks from Max and Milo didn't give him any comfort.

Sonny was the first to speak, “Hello, Jason.”

“Sonny...Max, Milo,” Jason nodded in the direction of each.

Jason wasn't sure if the lobby had quieted as a result of the tension emanating from the four men, or if it was simply his stone-cold focus kicking in? All his senses drowned out anything other than the possible threat.

“We should talk,” Sonny motioned his head to a quiet corner of the lobby. Neither would be comfortable talking in private until they'd had a chance to clear the air. This morning Sonny awoke with a decision on his hands. Whether, or not, to kill Jason Morgan before Jason had the chance to kill him? 

Three phone calls later in the day would help make his decision. Luke called crying over a bottle of scotch to say he had it on good authority Jason declined an offer to work for Zacchara, but relented after Zacchara threatened to kill his mother and sister. Sonny told Luke he'd check it out and get back to him.

He'd tried to contact Father Coates. According to Luke, Monica and Emily left for Columbia a couple months back to volunteer at his clinic there. He phoned the church, but there was no answer. When he called back some time later, the parish secretary told him Father Coates was assaulted and hospitalized. She was at the church with police as they taped off the crime scene. 

Sonny promptly called GH to check on the priest. Robin happened to answer and told Sonny it was still touch and go. She was worried about Jason. He'd found Father Coates and brought him to the hospital. Robin said Jason seemed pretty shaken. She thought he was in some kind of trouble and asked Sonny to help keep him safe.

Sonny hung up with Robin having decided Luke's intel was good. Jason finding Father Coates at the church was too coincidental for the attack not to be related. Someone was looking for information on Monica and Emily. He was about to call Luke back when his phone rang.

It was Luke, again. This time he wasn't crying over scotch. He was crying out for blood. Jason, and a woman he was somehow partnered with, alerted Luke that Anthony put a hit out on Luke's grandson as payback for Johnny Zacchara's death. Luke was headed to kill the bastard and asked if Sonny might like to get in on the action? It was all Sonny needed to hear. He'd given Luke directions to a safe house not too far from Zacchara's estate and told him they'd meet up with him there.

Sonny was in his limo when he got the call from Carly. She informed him Jason had been shot and Sam, a woman Carly apparently believed Jason to be in love with, had been terrorized and if Sonny allowed anything to happen to either one of them Carly planned to make his life a living hell for his remaining time on Earth. He wouldn't be surprised if she managed to make his life hell afterward either. Sonny assured Carly he'd take care of it.

Sonny already decided Anthony Zacchara was a dead man, but now that he knew where Jason was he wanted his brother to know he had his back.

“I guess you know by now Anthony hired me to take you out,” Jason was never one for small talk.

If Max and Milo stiffened anymore Jason would have a hard time distinguishing between them and those petrified trees he'd visited once in the National Forrest.

Sonny pursed his lips and nodded, “I also heard a little something else. Luke tells me Zacchara's holding your mother and sister as insurance.”

Jason nodded, momentarily confused how Luke could have known until he remembered how long Sam took in that back storage hold. She'd told Luke knowing he'd pass the information along to Sonny. She was looking out for him. Jason was sure his heart beat solely for her now, “Father Coates helped get them to safety, but there isn't much time before they're found.”

Sonny sighed, “I heard you found him. Robin says it's still touch and go. If he makes it through the night, there's a good chance he'll live.”

Jason shook his head, “I shouldn't have asked him to get involved.”

Sonny disagreed, “It was the best move you had at the time. He was the best bet to buy your family more time.”

Jason didn't respond to that, “You were the target until Johnny was killed, then Anthony changed it to Lucky's son. If it hadn't changed I can't be sure I wouldn't have gone through with it.”

Sonny nodded, “If I were in your position, I can't say I wouldn't either. Hell, Jason, if I really believed my death was the only way to save Monica and Emily I wouldn't have blamed you. I'm willing to die for them and for you. I love you like a brother, but given a choice I'd rather fight for us all.”

Jason could hear the sincerity in his voice and see it in his eyes. How could he have forgotten this bond they shared? “I'm sorry I didn't come to you. Zacchara was watching every move. I couldn't risk Monica and Emily. My hands were tied.”

“I understand. We're good. Consider your hands untied. We were on our way to a little impromptu dinner date with Anthony when Carly called. She thought you and I should catch up. What do you say, care to join us for a night on the town,” Sonny grinned?

Jason looked down at the case in his hand and flatly stated, “Guess it's a good thing I brought my dancing shoes.”

Sonny chuckled and held out his hand. Jason accepted it and they shook, “Good to have you back, man, even if it's only for tonight.”

“Just for tonight,” Jason confirmed.

He didn't intend to return to the business, “but it is good to be back.”

Max and Milo exchanged relieved glances, allowing themselves to breath again before proceeding the two men to Sonny's waiting limo.

*****

Sam hadn't been sleeping. Well, she had been sleeping, just not when he was talking. She'd woken up from a wonderful dream of them making love again to feel his strong hands gently caressing her back. Before she could make a sound, he started talking to her. Sam listened. Sensing he needed to say the things he was telling her, but would be unable to finish if he knew she was awake.

By the time he finished, she knew her heart belonged to Jason Morgan. All these years he'd been searching for Michael. Forced to live alone in his own personal hell believing he failed the one person he'd loved with all his heart. Well, he wasn't alone anymore. Sam intended to do everything in her power to help him find the answers and, hopefully, the boy he lost years ago.

She stood naked from the bed, missing the comfort of his embrace, and wrapped her discarded robe around her as she made her way to the living room. She intended to have him again. She needed to feel him against her, on her, inside of her. She looked around the empty suite, puzzled. She couldn't think of any reason he'd step out without letting her know, then she noticed the gun on the table and realized he'd left her to go after Zacchara.

Her mouth cursed his foolishness while her heart fluttered over his attempt to keep her out of harm's way. She shook her head. Going up against Anthony Zacchara alone was suicide and she wasn't having it. They had unfinished business to attend to...lots and lots of unfinished business...a long lifetime's worth if she had anything to say about it.

Sam scrambled back into the bedroom, threw on her last clean outfit and slipped the gun in the waistband of her jeans. She tossed all her things into her bag and headed down to her car. She settled behind the wheel. Revving her engine in warning as she peeled out of parking and off to save her man's ass. He couldn't have too much of a head start and her raven black baby had never let her down.

-Zacchara Mansion-

It was a troublesome group the cop found himself teamed up with tonight. His renegade father and mob boss buddy along with his henchmen as well as his former enforcer, but a silent understanding passed between them all. They would all have each others backs tonight for the sole purpose of taking Anthony Zacchara out once and for all.

Stan, Sonny's tech guy, provided the layout of the estate and blueprints of the main house to study back at the safe house. They also went over previously acquired data including the number and position of guards found at any given time of day. Cody, Sonny's new enforcer since Jason's departure, thought this might be useful information to have some day...Jason liked the way he thought.

By the time Sonny and Jason arrived at the safe house, Cody had already devised their plan of entry. Zacchara's men were sure to be on high alert after the failed hit on the cop's son, so stealth was no good. Instead, they would hit fast and hard. Lucky and Jason agreed with Cody's assessment.

They now stood in position outside Zacchara's fence waiting for the signal. Each divided into groups with their own objectives. First to go in would be two teams of eight, trained by Cody who was former special forces. Cody would lead team 1 and Max would lead team 2. Their mission to clear the path for Sonny, Jason, Lucky and Luke so they could ensure JJ's safety before taking out Anthony Zacchara and anyone who stood in their way.

The timed precision was flawless. By Cody's command the silenced shots hit their targets simultaneously and six bodies thudded to the ground at once. Jason raised an eyebrow over to Sonny and Sonny grinned mischievously, “When you left, there were big shoes to fill. I couldn't just settle for anyone after having the best.”

Jason smirked and shook his head. Lucky was stunned. Unable to shake the chill up his spine from witnessing the lethal force anyone going against Sonny Corinthos would meet.

Within a minute thirty they were inside the compound taking down Anthony's men one after another as easily as if they were bags of sand at target practice. Cody's team covered the exterior while Max's team entered the main house ahead of Sonny, Jason, Luke and Lucky. Max and his men worked to clear the downstairs while the four of them sprinted upstairs.

The four split into two at the top. Lucky and Luke made their way to the nursery. Sonny and Jason entered the opposite wing toward the master suite.

The house was quiet. Eerily quiet. Jason didn't like it. He and Sonny searched room by room with no sign of Anthony. They were down to the last room almost back to the main stairs when Jason raised his finger to his mouth. There was movement inside the room.

Luke covered Lucky as he searched JJ's room high and low, but JJ was nowhere to be found. Maybe he was hiding somewhere else in the house? They made their way back down the long hall, clearing rooms as they went.

Jason busted in with Sonny covering. Seconds before taking his shot a little boy cried out, “Nooo!” A toddler with dark curly hair and hazel eyes jumped in front of a slender woman with dark features. She trained her gun between Sonny and Jason, uncertain which presented the bigger threat as she struggled to pull the little boy back behind her.

Sonny was the first to lower his gun, “Claudia, we don't want any trouble with you. We're here for your father and to make sure JJ is safe.”

Jason wasn't going to lower his gun until she did.

Claudia laughed mirthlessly, “You can have my father! As for JJ's safety, I'll kill anyone who tries to lay a hand on him.”

Claudia shot daggers at Jason. Sonny motioned for Jason to ease off a bit. The woman looked like a wild animal protecting her young. He was about to suggest they both lower their weapons at once when Luke and Lucky rushed into the room.

Claudia tensed and directed her weapon to the new threats. Jason kept his raised as well.

Luke took note of the frightened toddler and put his hands up, “Whoa, let's everyone just calm down. All we want is to make sure JJ is safe.”

“I am safe. My Auntie Claud will never let anyone hurt me and I won't let you hurt her,” JJ shouted with defiant little eyes that dared anyone to challenge him. He refused to allow Claudia to push him behind her. Holding his arms out to the side as if his little body could shield her from harm.

Jason and Sonny were impressed with the little guy's bravery, love and loyalty. It reminded them of Michael.

“What were you doing in here,” Jason didn't trust her yet?

“It's the last place my father would look for us. He knows I haven't been able to step foot in this room since Johnny died. My brother also kept more guns and ammo in his room,” Claudia explained as she knelt to pick JJ up.

“Why would you be hiding from your father, or need a gun against him” Sonny was puzzled by the contempt in her voice when she spoke of her father?

“She wouldn't. She's probably been in on it with the old man from the beginning. She hates me for what happened to Johnny,” Lucky hadn't forgotten the glare she'd given him the day she buried her brother.

“I had no idea what my father planned! The minute JJ told me what he'd heard I called the PCPD hotline,” Claudia demanded!

Lucky paled, “You were the anonymous tip?”

Claudia nodded, fire in her eyes.

“We had to save Cameron,” JJ told them.

Claudia lowered her gun at this point. She couldn't hold both the gun and JJ comfortably any longer and right now JJ in her arms gave her far more comfort than the gun. She rested her forehead against his and smiled at the best thing that had ever happened to her life, besides her brother.

“My father intends to groom JJ to follow in John's footsteps. He knows I'll never let that happen. I've been planning our escape since Johnny died. Waiting for the moment their guard was down, but daddy's kept me hostage. Forbidding me to leave with JJ. I overheard my father yelling downstairs earlier and knew all hell was about to break loose. This distraction is our chance to get away. I've decided to turn evidence against him, so JJ and I can go into witness protection,” JJ leaned his head against his Auntie Claud's shoulder as she spoke.

“Did you have any knowledge of what Anthony did to Lulu,” Luke hoped for her sake he believed her answer?

Claudia looked at JJ in her arms and smiled sadly, “I suspected it, but could never get any proof. I tried to convince John of it, so he'd take JJ and leave. John couldn't believe his father capable of it. He joined the business to get revenge against the rival Anthony claimed responsible. All I've managed to do all these years is keep my father's contact with JJ as limited as possible.”

Jason, Luke, Lucky and Sonny all exchanged glances with one another. All were skeptical, except for Sonny, but were willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. There was something about her that made Sonny believe she was telling the truth. He could see it in her eyes.

“Sonny, man, I need you to get JJ and Claudia out of here for me,” personally he wasn't too concerned for Claudia, but it was the only family his grandson knew and she just might be telling the truth.

“I need to see this thing through with Jason,” Sonny knew Jason could handle himself, but he'd made a promise to have his brother's back and intended to keep it.

“No, Sonny, Luke's right. We need to get JJ out of here. We can't have another kid in the crossfire,” Sonny's throat constricted and eyes watered thinking of Michael. He nodded.

Sonny understood why Lucky and Luke needed to stay to finish this with Zacchara. Anthony killed Luke's daughter and tried to kill Lucky's son. Saving Claudia and JJ was Sonny's responsibility now.

Luke stared hard at Sonny, “Keep them safe.”

Sonny returned his old friend's gaze, “I'll protect them with my life.”

“We need to move,” Jason interrupted.

“Upstairs was empty. No sign of Anthony or Trevor,” Lucky informed Jason.

“There was another man with them...tall, curly blond hair, blue eyes with an accent. I didn't get the name,” Claudia offered unsure if it would help.

“Sounds like the sniper from the theater,” Lucky growled hoping he laid eyes on the bastard just once more now that he had his own gun in hand.

Luke, Lucky and Jason covered Sonny's escape with Claudia and JJ. They made it downstairs and halfway through the foyer when Anthony appeared out of nowhere. Eyes mad, gun in hand and aimed at Claudia, “Nobody is going stop me from seeing my grandson claim his rightful place! I killed his bitch mother and I'll kill his bitch aunt if she tries!”

Lucky and Luke were busy shielding JJ and Claudia while Jason tried to get a shot, but a column blocked his shot. Suddenly, Anthony lunged forward with a roar. His gun aimed to fire at Claudia. Sonny jumped in the way and attempted to tackle Anthony, but insanity fueled his strength.

They fought for the gun. Jason still couldn't get a good shot...and then the gun went off just before Sonny managed to loosen it from Anthony's grasp. Luke went down. Jason and Lucky fired at Anthony as he escaped to another part of the house.

“Get them to the limo,” Jason shouted to Lucky as he took off after Anthony.

“Dad, you need to go with Sonny now,” Lucky lost his sister and almost his son to the murdering bastard. He wouldn't lose his dad too.

“I've had worse than this shaving,” no way in hell Luke was leaving until he watched the last breath leave that bastard's body. He'd killed his daughter. His wonderful Leslie Lu.

Lucky looked to Sonny, but Sonny understood why Luke couldn't leave. It was Luke's decision.

“Dammit, dad. Stop being a selfish ass and think about the rest of your family that might not want to lose you,” Lucky doubted the guilt card would work, but it was worth a try.

“Pappy please, I don't want to lose anymore family,” JJ pleaded from Claudia's arms.

The three grown men stood dumbfounded. Sonny looked at Claudia, then to Luke, and Lucky before Luke said, “What did he just call me?”

Claudia shrugged, “It was either that or grandpa, but you remind me of Popeye's father the degenerate, Poopdeck Pappy, who doesn't share his son's moral righteousness, so Pappy seemed the better fit.” 

Claudia could tell by the look on Luke and Lucky's faces they were both surprised JJ even knew who Luke was at all, “Johnny insisted JJ know all about his Spencer heritage. He wanted JJ to know all of his relatives even though the contention between you prevented Johnny from really letting you share in JJ's life. I found one of Lulu's photo albums after she passed with all her family in it. I kept it for JJ and we look at it all the time. JJ knows all of his family.”

Lucky grew concerned, “Did JJ know it was his cousin...”

“No,” Claudia interrupted before he could finish, “JJ only knew a little boy named Cameron was in trouble and his dad was a cop. Nothing more.”

Lucky was relieved. It was enough his nephew was subjected to his grandfather ordering a little boy dead. He didn't need the added horror of knowing that boy was his own family.

Luke was unusually quiet and Lucky looked over at him, “Are those tears?”

“Hell yes, you'd cry too if you'd been shot in the gut,” Luke would bleed to death before he'd admit to being moved to tears by this mob princess. Pappy. Luke grinned slyly. He liked it. This Claudia chick might not be all bad.

Sonny covered his grin with his hand. Lucky nodded his head, “Uh-huh, right,” he drew his dad's arm around him to assist him to Sonny's waiting limo. Sonny covered them as Claudia and JJ slid safely into the back of his car. Lucky helped ease Luke in as well, then promptly made his way back toward the fight.

Sonny slipped into the limo and slammed the door shut, “Milo, get us the hell out of here!”

Just as Milo floored it toward the gates, a black blur hauled ass past them.

“What the hell was that,” Milo exclaimed?

Luke smirked, ignoring the pain, “That was Jason's new girlfriend and I'd say from the way she's driving she's about two-thirds pissed and one-third scared to death. I'd hate to be the dumb son of a bitch that tries to keep her from her man.”

Sonny whipped his head around for a glimpse, but it was too dark to see anything as they swerved through the gates and away from that hell hole as fast as Milo's lead foot could go.

Sam squealed to a halt burning a trail of rubber against Anthony's nice and tidy circular drive. She bolted from her car firing shots as she ran for cover near the main entrance. She didn't know what to expect? For all she knew Anthony was escaping back in that limo she passed and Jason was in here somewhere on the floor bleeding to death. Damn Jason Morgan for making her worry and feel so vulnerable.

Sam made her way in the house just past the foyer when someone slipped up behind her. She turned with her gun on them before they could get the drop. Manny grabbed her from behind and she'd never let her guard down like that again.

“Don't shoot,” Lucky whispered harshly once he saw Sam's face!

Sam sighed heavily and lowered her weapon, “Where's Jason?”

“He ran off that way after Anthony,” Lucky pointed down the hall, “but wait!”

Too late. Sam left the shelter of her spot and almost took a bullet in the head.

“That's what I was trying to tell you. Someone's up there. Every time I try to advance, he shoots,” Lucky pointed up where the man took cover from above.

“Well, why the hell are you just sitting here? Go around,” Sam shook her head and moved the other way. Another shot.

“Dammit, that was close,” she cursed.

“Yeah, well, now you know why I'm just sitting here,” Lucky smirked.

“Alright, well, nice chatting with you, but I've got to get to Jason. On the count of three I'm going for it. Cover me,” Sam wasn't going to let a little gunfire keep her from helping Jason.

“No, I'm the cop here. I'm going after Anthony,” Sam shouldn't even be here.

“On the count of three, I'm running Lucky. You can either cover me, or let me get hit. You're choice,” Sam glared.

“One.two.three,” Sam surged from cover, racing in the direction Anthony and Jason had gone before Lucky could argue. He laid down heavy fire helping her to escape while cursing under his breath.

Jason heard him just beyond the double doors of what he knew from the blueprints to be Anthony's study. Sounded like he was shuffling through drawers, probably going for another weapon. Jason stepped through the doors without pause, gun and eyes holding him hostage, “You're out of time, Anthony.”

Anthony's eyes shot up, merry madness clouding them, “Oh, I don't know, Morgan. I wouldn't be so quick to count an old man out just yet. You know what they say, age and treachery will triumph over youth and skill.”

Perhaps too late, Jason realized it wasn't the insanity or arrogance in Anthony's demeanor that bothered him at all, but the confidence. Trevor silently edged his way closer from the shadows to line up his shot as he aimed his gun at Jason's back. Anthony beamed with wicked delight as his man got the upper hand on the fool that believed he could cross him and live.


	10. Chapter 10

10.

-Zacchara Mansion-

Lucky was almost out of bullets. Time for a new tactic.

“You do realize you're shooting at a cop,” he shouted up at the unknown gunman.

“Why yes, Detective Spencer, but thank you for your concern,” Lucky didn't recognize the man's voice, but thought he detected an Australian accent. Claudia described a man that sounded like the sniper that shot at Cameron as having an accent.

“You know my name, but I haven't had the pleasure of yours. I think it's only fair since you tried to kill my son,” Lucky spat as he fired two shots his way.

“Temper temper, detective, and here I thought you wanted to engage in polite conversation,” the voice called back.

“We can make polite conversation while I read you your rights. Backup is on the way and your boss will be dead after tonight. The smart move would be to cut your losses, but maybe I'm holding someone stupid enough to shoot at a cop to too high a standard,” Lucky just wanted to kill this bastard already so he could get to Zacchara. 

Mr. Craig contemplated the cop's words. Even if the cops weren't on the way, Zacchara was sure to be a dead man soon enough with all those men gunning for him. He wasn't getting paid for this job, so why the hell was he still around? Better to leave now and hunt Jason Morgan and Sam McCall down later. They'd ruined his perfect record which hurt his business and that made it personal. Craig folded up shop and slipped off the estate without detection. He'd be back to settle the score with Jason Morgan and Sam McCall.

“Hello?” Lucky waited a few minutes before realizing the man fled. He took off in the direction Anthony, Jason, and Sam went.

Sam hugged the shadowed walls as she angled down the hall. She froze when she saw Trevor with a gun on Jason's back, “You're holding Anthony up, Mr. Morgan, and we wouldn't want to miss our flight. Anthony and I have unfinished business to finish in Buenaventura.” 

Trevor continued tongue in cheek, “But you could save us time and put a bullet in your head. If the position were reversed, I'd do the same for you.”

Sam raised her gun at Trevor's back, “Are you?”

Trevor tensed, “Excuse me?”

“Gonna put a bullet in your head now that the positions are reversed,” Sam asked coldly?

Jason turned abruptly to find Sam with a gun on Trevor. Trevor fired at Jason and missed. Jason fired two rounds into his chest dead-center before Sam had the chance. He wouldn't allow another death to be on her hands.

Anthony used the chaos to go for his spare gun. Sam shouted the warning to Jason and they both ducked back into the hall trading shots with Anthony.

“You shouldn't be here,” Jason snapped between shots.

“I know, just somewhere along the way I developed a problem with watching you die,” Sam snapped back, her fury giving way to relief with the realization he was still alive.

Jason's eyes softened, “I have the same problem with you.”

After a minute, it got quiet. Jason ventured a peak inside the study. Dammit! The French doors were open, “He's making a run for it.”

Jason and Sam followed. They could barely make out Anthony's dark figure as it headed for the tree line. Anthony was old and out of breath, unable to outrun Jason. He stopped near his reflection pool, realizing there was nowhere left to run. Maria always loved this pool and her roses. He would soon be with her and his beloved John too, but not before he put a bullet in Morgan's head.

Jason saw Anthony stop. He held his arm out to signal Sam stay back. Sam followed his lead, realizing this was something Jason needed to do. Jason pulled his second gun from his waistband. The gun with the special bullet Anthony gave him when he arranged for the hit on Cameron...the bullet that was to be a message from the Zacchara organization of what happens to those that dare cross him.

Anthony held his gun at Jason's head and fired, but his gun was empty. He'd fired wildly losing count. Zacchara's black eyes widened as the promise of death fell over his hell bound soul, “The boy will die Morgan. As well as your family.”

Jason's eyes narrowed to icy slits, “Not in your lifetime,” and he fired a single shot between his eyes. Anthony fell back into the black water as Sam to his side. Jason took her in his arms watching the evil bastard slowly sink beneath the blackness.

Lucky rushed on the scene to find Anthony sinking into the black water of the pool and Jason holding Sam.

He held out his hand for Jason's gun, “I was concerned for my nephew after the hit on Cameron. I came here to check on him. I have no idea who took out all the other guards. It was like that when I arrived. I began my search of the house for JJ announcing myself as I entered each room. Trevor fired at me and I fired back in the study. My gun ran out of bullets firing at an unknown assailant that got away. Male, tall, blond curly hair, blue eyes with an accent... I picked up this gun,” Lucky raised Jason's gun, “from the desk in the study and fired two rounds into Trevor. The French doors were open. I looked outside to find Anthony fleeing the scene. I called for him to halt and Anthony shot at me,” Lucky would later plant the gun Anthony shot Luke with on Anthony's body, “I killed Trevor and Anthony in self-defense.”

Jason's heart raced as he held the young cop's eye. Lucky was returning the favor for saving his son's life. Jason nodded his silent thanks, unable to find the words. He'd almost killed his son. Lucky owed him nothing as far as Jason was concerned.

Jason and Sam made their way back toward the drive. Lucky stepped slightly in front of them, “By the way Sam, it's the damnedest thing...somehow all the evidence we collected against you for forgery as well as a critical piece of paperwork has mysteriously gone missing. I doubt we'll ever find it again. As for that dead body back at the theater...well, dad gave a statement he took you at gunpoint. It was self-defense. I recommend you turn yourself in soon, but any good attorney shouldn't have any trouble seeing you free of all possible charges.”

Sam couldn't believe her ears. No cop had ever helped her like this before. She'd never had any use for her friend's cop son, but maybe he wasn't all that bad, “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me, Sam. Thank the ineffectual bureaucratic system that leads to an insurmountable backlog of improperly logged evidence and misfiled paperwork,” Lucky felt like this was the least he could do for the two people that saved his son's life.

Sam gave Lucky a little smile. He was more like his father than he'd ever admit.

Jason and Sam were met near the front drive by Cody who confirmed he, Jason and Sam were the last to leave. None of their men were lost and only one was wounded, plus Luke. Jason had to admit he was impressed with Cody's skills and attention to detail. He was glad Sonny found someone as competent as Cody.

They watched Cody drive away before Jason and Sam climbed in her car and took off. There was a place Sam wanted to take him before he left. 

Jason phoned and purchased the next available flight to Columbia under Father Coates passport. Sonny offered his jet, but Jason didn't want to risk setting off red flags for Zacchara's men or disgruntled partners before he could reach his mother and sister.

Sam pulled her car up to the guardrail at the top of the mountain. It was one of her favorite places. Jason hadn't been here in years, “I used to ride my bike up here when I needed to get away and think.”

Sam liked that they had this in common, “It's one of my favorite places for the same reason.”

Jason took Sam in his arms as she wrapped hers around his waist. They leaned against her car in comfortable silence watching the sun come up over Port Charles. 

Time slipped away. Sam dropped Jason off at the department store for clean clothes and a few necessary travel items before his flight. He'd catch a cab to the airport. She had important business to finish and told him she'd meet him there. Jason reluctantly let her go after a long hug and very thorough kiss, just in case this was her way of avoiding a painful goodbye.

-GrayStone Manor-

Sonny brought Claudia, JJ and Luke back to his home and managed to get Luke to the sofa with Milo's help. Sonny called his doctor from the limo to meet them at his house. Claudia asked if she could take JJ up to a room to avoid seeing Luke in pain?

“Please, make yourselves at home. Feel free to pick any room upstairs you like,” Sonny offered.

Claudia smiled solemnly and nodded. She let an excited JJ lead the way. He was an adventurous little boy who loved exploring new places. She smiled to herself as JJ checked one bedroom after another, unsatisfied until he came across a little boy's room full of toys.

Claudia wasn't sure they should be in there, but JJ was finally distracted from the violence and Sonny did say to pick any room. Claudia looked around. It was a room any little boy would love. She sat on the bed as JJ played with a giant fire truck he found. She looked over to the bed table and noticed the photo there. It was of a little red-headed boy with Sonny and a woman she recognized as Sonny's ex-wife, Carly. She was holding a baby in her arms with Sonny's dimples. Claudia stood from the bed and smoothed the covers back, realizing this must be the room of the son he lost, “JJ, sweetie, I'm sorry, but we really shouldn't be in here. We need to find another room.”

“It's alright,” Sonny's voice was a nostalgic whisper.

“Sonny, I'm sorry. I didn't know...” Sonny waived her apology off with a smile and shake of his head, “I just came up to tell you the doc says Luke is going to be fine.”

Claudia nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear nervously. She wasn't sure why, but being alone with Sonny made her feel nervous in an oddly good way.

“I haven't been in this room except for a few times, but I wasn't able to change anything. I wanted to keep it just the same as the day Michael was taken...to remind me to never again take my family for granted,” Sonny watched JJ play with the truck on the rug.

Claudia felt a connection with Sonny in that moment. They'd both shared the pain of a loss that cut them to the quick. They both stood for a moment watching JJ play.

“Witness protection isn't without danger as well, and, if you're willing to hear me out I may have a better alternative,” Sonny approached her gently. He wanted peace and for some reason he also wanted her to stick around.

“My man confirmed Anthony and Trevor are no longer an issue. You'll be named as the new head of the family business. Not even all five families combined could garner enough power to take out the Corinthos and Zacchara organizations if we worked together. So, I was wondering...how would you feel about a merger,” Sonny braved a small smile?

-Airport-

Jason waited for Sam under the International Flights board near the airline desk where they agreed to meet. He stood checking the departures for any delay in his flight, hoping earlier hadn't been the last he would see her before he left. He just wanted one more look into those intoxicating bourbon eyes. He felt her presence and turned.

Sam gave a smile only half her heart felt. Happy to see him. Saddened to say goodbye, “Hey,” she greeted him as she handed him a black leather billfold, “I brought you a going away present.”

Jason opened it to find two passports with his mother and sister's photographs under alternate names.

“For your family,” Sam added feeling somewhat awkward with the silence.

A gentle smile found it's way from Jason's face to her, “Thank you.”

“You know I never made a passport before for someone I didn't want to see leave,” Sam confessed.

Jason just stared at her with that same gentle smile, memorizing her face.

Sam smiled up at him a bit timidly, “This was a lot easier when they were shooting at us, huh?”

Jason stepped to her then, his hand caressing her face as he leaned in. His lips just a breath away from hers. 

“I'll miss you,” he whispered against her lips as his blue eyes held hers. 

He rested his forehead against hers and breathed her in. He wouldn't kiss her goodbye, because this was not goodbye. Jason squeezed his eyes shut, summoning the strength to pull away. The force of her draw nearly overpowering him like two strong magnets held together, but he stepped away and turned to walk toward the gate.

Sam stood teary-eyed, but fought back her tears as she watched him go. She would not cry, no matter how much her heart bled. She would not run to him, no matter how much her body screamed to be held. 

Jason turned back to look at her. He couldn't help himself. He could feel her eyes on him, burning into his back and melting his heart. Jason gave her a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Sam's heart was hurting, because he was leaving. He wanted to promise her everything, but until his family was safe it was best to leave things the way they were. He had big plans for a life with Sam as soon as he returned, but he would never again make a promise he couldn't keep.

Sam smiled at Jason through her tears. Rooted to the spot, but she would listen to her head this time. Sam McCall was her own woman and had her own life to get back to, even though suddenly all she found herself wanting was a life with him. She cocked her head as she smiled at him wistfully, then found the strength to turn and walk away without looking back. 

She would ignore her heart and body and listen to her mind this time, because she had work to do. She had a red-headed little boy to research and a tip to follow up on in Greece. Besides, her gut told her this wouldn't be the last she saw of him.

Jason watched her walk away and knew this wouldn't be the last he saw of her. He'd do whatever it took to get back to her. He pocketed the passports in his jacket and vanished in the crowd, determined to save his family, find Michael, and begin his new life with Sam.

~End, Part 1 of 3~


End file.
